-. 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


:"»T* 


HADAD, 


A    DRAMATIC     POEM 


BY  JAMES  A.  HILLHOUSE, 

AUTHOR  OF  PERCY'S  MASQUE,  AND  THE  JUDGMENT. 


NEW-YORK: 

PRINTED  FOR  E.  BLISS  &  E.  WHITE. 


MDCCCXXV. 


Southern  District  of  New-York,  ss. 

(L.  S.)  BE  IT  REMEMBERED,  That  on  the  seventeenth  day  of  March,  in  the  forty- 
ninth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  E.  Bliss  &  E.  White,  of 
the  said  district,  have  deposited  in  this  office  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  they 
claim  as  proprietors,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit: 

«  Hadad,  a  Dramatic  Poem.  By  James  A.  Hillhouse,  Author  of  Percy's  Masque,  and  The 
Judgment." 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled,  "  An  act  for  the 
encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the 
authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  time  therein  mentioned."  And  also  to 
an  act,  entitled,  "  An  act.  supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled,  an  act  for  the  encouragement 
of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprie 
tors  of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned,  and  extending  the  benefits 
thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

JAMES  DILL, 
Clerk  of  the  Southern  District  of  New- York. 


TO 


THE  VENERABLE 


ABRAHAM   BEACH,   D.  D. 


AS  A  TESTIMONY  OF  AFFECTION, 


THIS  WORK 


IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED. 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE  belief  in  a  former  intercourse  between 
mankind,  and  the  good  and  evil  beings  of  the 
Spiritual  World,  harmonizes  with  the  solemn  twi 
light  of  the  scriptural  ages,  and  is  sustained  by 
many  declarations  of  Holy  Writ.  The  passages 
involving  that  part  of  the  doctrine  which  relates 
to  the  Fallen  Spirits — for  example,  those  reciting 
the  necromantic  power  of  the  Egyptian  Magicians, 
of  the  Sorceress  of  Endor,  the  passion  and  dis 
comfiture  of  the  Evil  Angel,  who  was  enamoured 
of  the  beautiful  daughter  of  Raguel,  and  the  De- 
monian  possessions  of  a  later  period — are  explain 
ed,  by  some  paraphrasts,  in  a  manner  which  pre 
cludes  spiritual  agency ;  but  by  most  commenta 
tors,  supported  by  the  common  faith  of  the  Chris- 


viii  INTRODUCTION. 

tian  world,  they  are  understood  as  simple  narra 
tions  of  actual  occurrences.  Dr.  Clark  affirms, 
that  to  every  unprejudiced  reader  of  the  Sacred 
Writings,  it  is  evident  they  represent  those  who 
dealt  with  Familiar  Spirits,  "  as  actually  possess 
ing  a  power  to  evoke  the  dead,  to  perform  super 
natural  operations,  and  to  discover  hidden  and  se 
cret  things,  by  spells,  charms,  incantations,  &c»"* 
Dr.  Gray,  in  his  observations  on  the  Book  of  To- 
bit,  which  he  considers  as  entitled  to  the  credit  of 
an  authentic  historical  narrative,  remarks  :  "  With 
respect  to  the  agency  of  Angels,  there  is  nothing 
inconsistent  with  reason,  received  opinions,  or 
Scripture,  in  supposing  a  limited  superintendence 
of  Superior  Beings.  We  know,  indeed,  that  under 
the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  Jewish  economy, 
the  ministry  of  Angels  was  manifestly  employed 

*  Adam  Clark,  note  on  the  18th  ver.  22d  Chap.  EXOD. 


INTRODUCTION.  ix 

in  subserviency  to  God's  designs  ;  and  that  particu 
lar  personages  were  occasionally  favoured  with  their 
familiar  intercourse.  It  is  likewise  unquestionable, 
that  before  the  power  and  malevolence  of  Evil  Spi 
rits  were  checked  and  restricted  by  the  control  of 
our  Saviour,  their  open  influence  was  experienced." 
Thus  understood,  the  Scriptures  offer  scenes  of 
unrivalled  wildness  and  sublimity  ;  agents,  whose 
power  and  attributes  are  of  unknown  extent,  who 
connect,  on  the  authority  of  our  Faith,  the  visible 
with  the  invisible  world.  The  reader  will  bear  in 
mind,  that  the  following  pages  relate  to  a  people 
accustomed  to  preternatural  occurrences  ;  and  to 
a  period,  when  the  Diviner  and  the  Mage  not  only 
enjoyed  the  confidence  of  the  wise,  and  powerful 
of  the  earth,  and  influenced  the  affairs  of  empires, 
but  are  believed,  by  the  learned  of  later  ages,  to 
have  actually  possessed,  in  some  instances  at  least, 
superhuman  art  and  knowledge.* 

*  Among  others,  Basil,  Ambrose,  Jerome,  Turtullian — appear  to 

2 


x  INTRODUCTION. 

The  particular  epoch  signalized  by  the  rebellion 
of  Absalom,  is  familiar  to  all.  The  simple  man 
ners  which  prevailed  in  Israel  previously  to  the 
kingly  government,  and  even  during  the  life  of 
Saul,  had  disappeared.  Accelerated  by  the  ex 
tensive  conquests,  and  the  amazing  wealth  of 
David,  history  declares  the  dawn  of  that  luxury 
to  have  become  manifest,  which  advanced  in  the 
reign  of  his  successor,  to  a  proverbial  height  of 
splendour. 

Had  ad  was  the  name  of  the  cotemporary  sove 
reigns  of  Damascus.  Nicholas  of  Damascus  re 
lates,  that  after  many  battles,  David  signally  de 
feated  King  Hadad  near  the  Euphrates,  together 
with  Hadadezer,  another  Syrian  monarch  whom 
he  attempted  to  succour ;  and  adds,  that  the  suc 
ceeding  Kings  of  Damascus  took  the  name  of 
Hadad. 

have  been  of  this  opinion.     See  their  notions  respecting  the  Magi, 
cited  by  Calmet.     Art.  Magus. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS. 

DAVID,  King  of  Israel. 

ABSALOM.  ~)  ,  . 

>  his  sons  ;  the  latter  yet  a  boy. 

SOLOMON,    5 

HAD  AD,  of  the  blood  royal  of  Damascus,  an  hostage  in  Jerusalem. 
MEPHIBOSHETH,  the  son  of  Jonathan;  residing  in  David's  palace. 
NATHAN,  the  Seer. 

ZADOK,       ~)  Kg1lPriests. 

ABIATHAR,  3 

JOAB,  the  Military  Chief. 

BEN  AI  AH  ,  Captain  of  the  Cherethites  and  Pelethites,  or  Life  Guard. 

ITTAI,  Commander  of  David's  land  of  Gittiles. 

AHITHOPHEL  " 


MALCHIAH,      j 

BALAAM-HADDON,  a  Babylonish  Mage. 
OBIL,  an  Ishmaelite,  keeper  of  the  King's  camels. 
MAUGRABIW,  an  instrument  ofHadad's. 
ABIMILECH,  Captain  of  a  Company  of  Ishmaelites. 
BAGOAS,  an  Eunuch  in  the  household  of  Absalom. 
Jews,  Ishmaelites,  Slaves,  &fc. 

TAMAR,  the  daughter  of  Absalom. 
MALCUTH,  wife  of  Obil. 

ADAH**'  \  m*^e  and  dauShter  ofAbimttech. 
Ishmaelite  women,  fyc. 
SCENE  —  chiefly  in  Jerusalem. 


HAD  AD. 


ACT  I. 

SCENE  I.     A  hall  in  the  palace  of  DAVID.     MEPHIBOSHETH 
seated,  attended  by  two  Ethiopians. 

Mephib.    Who  lurks  in  yonder  vestibule  ? — There  flits 
A  shadow  there. 

Enter  HADAD. 

Had.    Ha,  Prince,  forsake  the  banquet  ? 

Mephib.    Young  Syrian,  he  becomes  that  title  better 
Who,  midst  his  sons  and  captains,  feasts,  to-day, 
Envoys  from  proudest  nations  ;  tyrant  Egypt, 
Elam,  and  Tyre,  Assyria,  and  Damascus, 

3 


U  HAD  AD.  ActL 

Dusk  princes  from  the  east,  and  unknown  south ; 
All  bearing  to  his  coffers  richest  gifts, 
Fuming  his  pride  with  incense,  courting  league 
And  amity  with  him,  whose  warlike  name 
Even  Ishmael's  roving  sons  respect  and  fear. 

Had.    Dost  thou — thou,  whose  illustrious  grandsire  wore 
The  crown  of  Israel,  when  young  David's  hrows 
Were  wreathed  with  oak-leaves  in  the  wilderness, 
Renounce  thy  lineage,  title,  thy  great  name, 
Because  thou  lack'st  the  chair  and  canopy  ? — 
Prince,  in  that  unseen  chamber  where  the  Soul 
Sits  shrouded  with  her  winged  ministry, 
Swifter  than  light  and  countless  as  the  stars,. 
High  aims,  proud  thoughts,  inflexible  resolves> 
And  hopes  that  reach  at  glory,  there  is  fixed 
The  seat  of  Majesty. 

Mephib.    O,  thoughts  like  these 
May  grace  the  lips,  but  thou  wilt  live  to  find 
Power  is  the  seat  of  Majesty. 

Had.    When  clouds 
Lower' d  black  as  midnight  o'er  his  head,  who,  now, 


Scent  I.  HAD  AD.  15 

Thinks  nought  can  intercept  the  sun,  and  deems 
His  throne  immoveable  as  holy  Zion, 
What  had  his  heart  to  lean  on  in  the  hour 
Of  peril,  but  an  old  man's  prophecy  ? — 
Less  stable,  Prince,  than  lineal  rights  like  thine.— 
But  to  that  golden  prophecy  he  clung, 
Revolved  it  waking,  slept  to  dream  it  o'er, 
Drew  from  it  hope,  and  constancy,  and  courage  ; 
Else,  had  some  cavern  been  his  dwelling  still, 
And  not  these  roofs  of  cedar. 

Mephib.    Hadad — no — 

Thou'rt  not  so  wild,  to  deem  the  abject  wretch . 
Mephibosheth  e'er  thinks  of  lineal  rights  ? 

Had.    Glimmers  thy  natal  star  more  dim  than  mine  ? 
Am  not  I  here  an  hostage,  poor,  and  powerless, 
Condemned  to  exile  on  the  false  pretence 
Of  Syria's  broken  faith  ?  destined,  perhaps, 
To  fill  some  Hebrew  dungeon,  while  a  son 
Of  David  sways  the  sceptre  of  Damascus  ? 
Yet,  singly  here  upon  his  wall-girt  hill, 
I  feel,  and  will  assert  my  claims,  as  proudly 
As  in  the  halls  of  Hadad. 


16  HADAD.  Act  I. 

Mephib.   Different  far 

Thy  fate  and  mine.     Thy  race  yet  lives,  and  reigns ; 
A  numerous  people  and  a  powerful  throne 
Await  thee.     Seated  there,  thou  mayst  restore 
Its  ancient  glory :  thy  victorious  arms 
May  recompense  these  days  to  Israel, 
Bow  haughty  Zion  to  the  yoke,  and  lead 
Her  princes  captive  to  the  hanks  of  Pharpar. 
But  I,  alas !  a  cripple  since  the  day 
My  fathers  fell  in  Mount  Gilboa,  what 
Can  I,  but  weep  and  curse  ?  Cut  off  from  glory, 
Like  some  dull  Levite,  I  consume  the  time 
O'er  chronicles  that  teach  me  what  I've  lost, 
Or,  in  a  niche  of  these — my  master's  halls — 
Study  the  mysteries  of  Israel's  court. 

Had.    A  pastime,  Prince,  various  enough  to  please  ! 
Lust — luxury — ambition — blood ! 

Mephib.    In  the  primeval  day,  the  friends  of  God 
Dwelt  in  plain  tents,  or  underneath  some  tree ; 
But  see  how  this  Prince-prophet  builds  his  nest. 
Mark  yonder  pavement,  like  a  limpid  lake, 


Scene  I.  HADAD,  17 

Reflecting  all  things  from  its  polished  face ; 
Behold  yon  couches,  wrought  like  kingly  thrones 
With  gold  and  ivory ;  those  purple  hangings, 
Garnished  with  pearls,  and  enter-tissued  all 
With  rarest  needle-work — a  guilty  pride 
That  mocks  the  tabernacle.     Breathe  the  perfume 
From  yonder  bossy  censers,  sending  up 
A  silvery  volume  to  the  vaulted  roof; — 
There  the  lign-aloes  wastes  its  precious  sweets, 
Costlier  than  Ophir's  dust.     Look  at  his  meats, 
His  wines,  the  service  of  his  table ;  youths 
About  his  cup  fairer  than  Tammuz.     See 
His  wives,  his  concubines,  whose  annual  waste 
Employs  the  looms  of  Egypt,  whose  white  necks 
Glitter  with  gems  that  might  redeem  a  kingdom. 

Had.  Types,  types  of  Heaven,  my  lord  Mephibosheth, 
Whose  pleasures  strain,  so  oft,  his  soaring  fancy. 

Mephib.    Nor  is  this  all ;  his  sons  outstrip  their  sire 
In  every  wild  device  of  luxury. 
Poor  Israel  sweats  to  pamper  their  blown  pride, 
Which,  swollen  and  rank,  breaks  out,  anon,  in  lust 


18  HADAD.  Act  I. 

And  murder.     Never  was  a  suffering  land 

So  cursed  with  princes,  such  a  locust  tribe 

To  suck  its  sweetness.     Look  at  Absalom ! 

Does  Pharaoh's  chariot  prouder  shake  the  way  ? 

Is  there  a  Syrian  temple,  where  your  Gods 

Stand  in  their  superhuman  majesty, 

Awing  the  worshipper,  that  can  display 

A  juster  image  of  monarchal  pride  ? 

His  haughty  spirit  lightens  in  his  eye, 

That,  eagle-like,  seems  fixed  on  some  far  quarry : 

His  Babylonish  mantle,  wrought  with  stars, 

And  golden  characters  of  strange  device, 

Flames  like  a  constellation ;  and  the  hoop, 

Half  seen  upon  his  brows,  denotes  a  will, 

That,  if  it  dared,  would  make  a  white  head  crownless. 

Had.    Interpret  not  so  harshly.     It  denotes 
But  David's  heir,  the  eldest,  noblest-born, 
Bravest,  and  most  illustrious  son  of  Israel. 

Mephib.  Ha  !  by  whose  blood  became  he  so  ? 

Had.    By  blood,  which  had  I  shed  in  such  a  cause. 
An  injured,  violated  sister's  cause, 
I  ne'er  had  washed  the  voucher  from  my  hand. 


Scene  L  HADAD.  19 

Mephib.    But  Daniel  too — 
Is  he  despatched  ?  or  has  he  sold  his  birthright  ? 

Had.    Thou  wouldst  not  name  meek-spirited  Daniel, 
To  rule  this  fiery  people  ?  Send  him  first 
To  silence  Bashan,  when  his  thousand  oaks 
Fight  with  the  tempest  of  the  wilderness. 

Mephib.    But,  prithee,  how  know'st  thou,  or  Absalom, 
That  Adonijah,  who,  in  royal  parts, 
Valour,  and  comeliness,  and  martial  skill, 
Scarce  yields  to  him  the  palm,  and  far  outshines, 
In  peaceful  virtues,  and  unblemished  fame, 
May  not  be  chosen  ? — ay,  or  Solomon, 
Old  Nathan's  darling,  son  of  David's  age, 
Cherished  like  Joseph,  whose  ripe  boyhood  yields 
The  promise  of  a  mind  that  after  times 
Will  wonder  at  ?     The  King  was  Jesse's  youngest, 
And  matched  young  Solomon  in  looks  and  years, 
When  Samuel  passed  seven  stately  sons,  to  crown 
The  shepherd  boy. — Why  dost  thou  fix  thine  eyes 
With  such  a  settled,  searching,  scorching  glare, 
As  thou  wouldst  rend  the  secrets  from  my  soul  ? 


20  HADAD.  ActL 

Had.    But  hast  thou  heard — or  noted  aught  like  this  ? 

Mephib.    Prince  of  Damascus,  what  is  that  to  thee  ? 
If  Saul  and  David,  or  if  David's  sons 
Dispute  the  throne,  hath  Syria  aught  to  say  ? 

Had.    Nay,  Prince,  I  meant — 

Mephib.    Meant  but  to  draw  forth  that 
Which  Absalom,  thy  kinsman,  burns  to  know ; 
Thy  more  than  kinsman — beauteous  Tamar's  sire  ! 
Tell  him,  Mephibosheth  nor  hears,  nor  sees, 
Nor  hath,  in  these  fair  seeming  days,  a  tongue. 
Slaves,  bear  me  hence — the  revellers  come  forth  ! 

[Mephib.  is  borne  out.] 

Had.    I'll  drop  a  balsam,  though,  shall  make  thy  tongue 
Discourse  like  music,  and  anoint  thine  eyes 
Till  diadems  and  sceptres  dazzle  them. 
He  harps  the  fatal  note — young  Solomon — 
The  scorpion  of  the  brood,  whose  sting  shall  prove 
Mortal  to  other  than  his  foes. — [Listens.'] — The  step 
Is  Absalom's — 'tis  he — and  opportunely. 

Enter  ABSALOM. 


Scene!.  HADAD.  21 

Ab.    Hadad,  thine  uncle's  envoys  sup  with  me, 
In  private,  with  the  Tyrian  :  Go,  I  prithee, 
And  bid  those  chiefs  of  Issachar,  whose  cause 
Sped  ill  this  morning.     Say  Ahithophel, 
Who  friended  them  in  council,  meets  with  us. — 
But  why  art  thou  alone  here  ?  all  the  guests 
Have  followed  to  the  garden. 

Had.    The  son  of  Jonathan  went  hence,  but  now. 
Being  next  him  at  the  table,  I  refreshed 
His  cup  so  oft,  and  spiced  it  so  with  vaunts 
Of  Judah's  glory,  subtler  than  hot  wine 
To  work  on  Benjamin,  that  in  a  rage 
He  flung  from  me  to  cool  his  ferment  here. 
I  followed,  as  unconscious  of  offence, 
In  hopes  his  wine  or  passion  might  let  fall 
Something  of  import  to  you. 

Ab.    Dropp'd  he  aught  ? 

Had.    An  ominous  hint  or  two  ;  but  he  was  waspish. 

Ab.    Touching  the  crown  ? 

Had.    Discoursing  of  the  times, 
The  King,  his  power,  dominion,  wealth,  and  glory, 

4 


22  HADAD.  Act  L 

I  mentioned  you  as  his  undoubted  heir. 
He  eyed  me  with  a  look  askance,  implying 
More  than  his  words,  and  craved  to  know  why  you, 
Or  I,  thought  that — commended  Adonijah — 
Then,  with  a  smile  of  dark  malignant  joy 
Which  lighted  up  his  murky  eye,  exclaimed, 
"  Why  not  the  younger  ? — nature's  prodigy — 
Son  of  old  age — the  Prophet's  favourite  ! 
What !  did  not  Samuel  consecrate  a  child  ?" 

Ab.    Malicious  slave !  He  sees  what,  like  a  barbed 
And  venomed  shaft,  hath  rankled  in  me  long. 
The  Seer  and  Joab  plot  against  me. 

Had.    That 
Perplexes  me. 

Ab.    Why,  Nathan  loves  the  boy, 
And  schools  him  deep  in  dreams  and  prophecies  ; 
But  Joab  seeks  his  own  imperious  will, 
Well  pleased  to  see  the  prince  become  a  priest. 
Me  he  would  foil,  because  I  fear  him  not, 
Because  I've  checked  his  towering  arrogance. 

Ha d.    But  think  you  that  the  King  gives  ear  to  them  ? 


Scene  I.  HAD  AD.  23 

Ab.    I  would  not  wrong  my  father. — He  hath  been 
Gracious  to  me  and  constant,  and  hath  shown 
Tokens  of  love  I  cannot  lightly  bury. 
Mischance  estranged  us  once — but  that's  long  past — 
And  I  remember,  when  he  first  embraced  me, 
How  passion  heaved  his  breast,  and  how  the  tears 
Bedewed  his  cheeks. 

Had.    But  did  you  note,  my  lord, 
The  homage  shown  the  boy  before  the  envoys  ? 
How  they  discoursed  with  him  ?  what  costly  gifts, 
Caresses,  flattery,  they  heaped  upon  him  ? 
Or  watch  the  workings  of  your  father's  face, 
When  the  old  Chaldee  lifted  up  his  hands 
In  wonder  at  his  answers  ? — Had  he  been 
Israel's  sole  hope,  they  could  not  more  have  graced  him. 

Ab.    Was  it  so  marked  ? 

Had.    Nay  ask ;  for  others  saw  it, 
And  smiled,  and  spoke  aside.     And  sure,  my  lord, 
The  son  of  Bathsheba  receives,  of  late, 
Nicer  attention  and  observance,  more 
Obsequious  homage,  and  a  winged  obedience 


24  HADAD.  Act  I. 

That  flies  ere  bidding,  (most  observable 

In  those  about  the  court  who  love  not  us,) 

And  the  old  Prophet  watches  him  as  close 

As  if  some  evil  Spirit  lurked  to  snare 

The  precious  child  of  heaven,  and  heir  of  Israel. 

Ab.    Would  heaven,  or  hell,  or  any  place  but  this, 
Contained  the  basilisk  I 

Had.    Ha!  look!— 

Enter  NATHAN* 

— the  hoary  son  of  mischief  comes. 
Let  us  retire  to  safer  conference  : — 
Spies  are  about  us  : — stay  not  to  accost  him. 

[Exeunt  Ab.  and  Had.] 

Nath.    Why  doth  that  Syrian  shun  me  ?  Always  thus 
He,  like  a  guilty  thing,  avoids  my  presence. 
Where'er  I  find  him,  and  I  find  him  ever 
Closely  conferring,  whether  roofed,  as  now, 
Or  on  the  walls,  or  in  the  streets,  or  gates, 
Or  the  resorts  of  men,  if  I  appear, 


Seme  II.  HADAD. 

His  bright  mysterious  eye  seems  conscious  of  me, 
And  soon  he  vanishes.     I  touched  him  once. 
He  turned,  as  he  had  felt  a  scorpion  ;  fear 
And  loathing  glared  from  his  enkindled  eyes, 
And  paleness  overspread  his  face,  like  one 
Who  smothers  mortal  pain.     Fierce,  subtle,  dark, 
Designing,  and  inscrutable,  he  walks 
Among  us  like  an  evil  Angel. 

[Passes  on.] 


SCENE  II. 

The   King's  private   apartment.     King  DAVID  alone* 
Enter  NATHAN. 

Math.    God  save  the  Anointed  ! 

K.  Dav.    Seer,  we  would  thy  counsel. 
Damascus  asks  a  consort  for  his  heir, 
Our  hostage,  here,  and  names  the  flower  of  Israely 
Absalom's  daughter.     What  shall  we  reply  ? 

Nath.    Should  Israel  graft  upon  a  heathen  stock  ? 


26  HADAD.  Act  I. 

K.  Dav.    But  'tis  a  noble  youth,  and  near  of  kin  ; 
And  sure  the  gentle  maiden  favours  him, 
For  Absalom  himself  preferred  the  suit, 
Who  lives  in  Tamar. 

Nath.    Hearken  not,  O  King. 

K.  Da-o.    But  if  the  youth  conform  to  Moses,  sure, 
His  blood  and  fortunes  may  aspire  so  high. 
What  nobler  line  than  Hadad's,  or  what  throne 
Of  older  splendour  than  Damascus'  ? 

Nath.    Old,  and  idolatrous. 

K.  Da-o.    Her  idols  fall 
If  she  be  linked  with  us,  and  Israel's  crown 
Secures  a  warlike  power  as  her  ally. 

Nath.    Rather  betroth  her  to  the  poorest  hind 
That  toils  in  Judah. 

K.  Dav.    Prophet  of  the  Lord, 
Seest  thou  aught  more  in  him  than  we  discern — 
A  young  prince  modelled  in  the  rarest  mould 
Of  mind  and  features,  clad  with  every  grace 
That  honours  dignity  ? — I  ne'er  beheld, 
Save  my  son  Absalom's,  a  goodlier  form, 
Or  mind  of  brighter  lustre. 


Scene  II.  HADAD.  27 

Nath.    I  have  felt 

Strange  agitations  in  his  presence,  throes, 
And  horrid  workings,  like  the  inward  strife 
After  dark  visions,  when  the  spectral  forms 
That  lodge  and  haunt  there,  turmoil  all  my  soul. 
Some  mystery — some  strange  antipathy 
Torments  me  with  abhorrence  and  distrust. 
O,  pause,  my  lord,  ere  such  a  covenant; 
Heaven  frowns  on  them  ;  our  Law  allows  them  not. 
Let  not  his  beauty  nor  his  tongue  entice  thee : 
He  hath  an  eye  bright  as  the  morning  star, 
But  pride,  and  fiendlike  cunning,  glance  from  it, 
And  sin  is  couched  in  his  lascivious  smile. 

K.  Dav.    If  intimations  visit  thee  from  Heaven, 
We  owe  obedience,  else,  as  man  to  man, 
We  speak. — His  daughter's  welfare  I  would  leave 
To  Absalom.     He  hath  a  mind  mature, 
Is  politic  to  judge,  and  loves  the  maid 
Even  to  her  rich  deservings.     They  best  know 
Their  Syrian  kinsman,  long  beneath  their  roof. 

Nath.    Hath  she  escaped,  unsoiled,  so  young  and  fair, 


28  HADAD.  Act  L 

Syria's  and  Geshur's  impious  rites,  to  yield, 
Yield,  in  the  precincts  of  the  sanctuary, 
To  an  uncircumcised,  the  heart  where  faith 
Glowed  like  the  hunting  censer ! — O,  beware 
Of  crafty  policy!     It  wears  a  face 
Too  like  ambition.     Geshur  cleaves  to  him — 
League  but  Damascus — with  his  power  in  Israel — 
And  Absalom  may  bend  his  father's  bow. 

K.  Dav.    Wrong  not  my  son. 

Nath.    I  would  not  5  but  I  fear 
The  sin  of  Lucifer  hath  snared  his  heart, 
Too  prone  to  high  aspiring.     Let  me  ask 
Wherefore  such  state  attends  him?  why  he  rides 
In  a  proud  chariot  drawn  by  fiery  steeds, 
While  Israel's  monarch  sits  upon  a  mule  ? 
Why  dazzling  guards  surround  him,  chosen  youths, 
Selected  from  the  prime  of  all  the  land, 
Armed  and  arrayed  like  princes  ?     Why  he  still 
Stands  in  the  gates  saluting  all  who  pass, 
Or  greeting  in  the  streets  the  common  people, 
As  they  were  brothers?     True  humility — 


Scene  //.  HAD  AD.  29 

K.  Dav.    You  misinterpret  venial  things.     His  name 
Was  outcast,  lost  from  us  three  years  in  Geshur, 
Besides  a  long  dejected  sojourn  here. 
He  seeks  to  drive  those  days  from  men's  remembrance 
By  shows  of  splendour,  and  by  courtesy 
To  win  lost  hearts. 

Nath.   He  doth  insult  the  throne, 
And  takes  from  royalty  and  age  its  rev'rence. 

K.  Dav.    You  love  him  not,  and  ever  strained  his  faults. 

Nath.    My  lord,  I  know  and  boldly  speak  his  faults. 
If  love  and  loyalty  possess  his  heart, 
Wherefore  those  wassails  and  night  banquetings, 
Where  malcontents  carouse,  and  wish  him  King  ? 
Why  are  the  Chiefs  and  Princes  of  the  Tribes, 
Who  come  to  solemnize  our  holy  feasts, 
Caressed  about  his  table  till  they  lose 
All  sense  of  precedence,  and  deem  the  crown 
Already  on  his  brows  ?  Your  chiefest  men, 
Ancients,  and  reverend  Judges,  flock  to  hear 
His  Syrian  Parasite  sweeten  their  cups 
With  honied  flattery,  and  golden  hopes, 

5 


30  HADAD.  Act  I. 

And  promises  of  days  when  Absalom 

Shall  make  the  desert  blossom,  and  the  rock 

Drop  as  the  vine  and  olive. 

K.  Dav.   Days  like  these 
Were  welcome,  Seer. 

Nath.   You  know  not  what  you  utter — 
Wo  to  the  hour  of  his  anointing  ! — King ! 
A  dreadful  vintage  shall  be  trod  that  day, 
With  purple  garments  ! — Lo  !  the  noise  of  arms, 
Chariots,  and  horsemen,  and  the  shout  of  Nations, 
Are  in  my  ears  ! — the  wail  of  Zion  ! — Hark  ! 
A  cry,  a  cry,  comes  from  her  royal  towers, 
Of  bitter  anguish,  like  a  Monarch's  voice ! 
My  Son !  my  People  !  Wo,  alas  ! 

K.  Dav.    Pause  not ; — 
Declare  it  all ;  Heaven's  will  is  ours. 

Math.    'Tis  gone — 

It  passed  me,  like  a  cloud  of  blood,  with  sounds 
Like  the  near  clang  of  battle. 

K.  Dav.  (After  a  pause.)  Man  of  God, 
We  hearken  to  thee  as  an  Oracle 


Scene  II.  HADAD.  31 

Of  sacred  wisdom  ;  nothing  from  thy  lips 
Falls  unrespected.     He  who  changed  yon  crook 
For  Israel's  sceptre,  may  refuse,  or  grant 
The  same  to  Absalom  :  His  will  be  done. 
But,  Prophet,  know  I  harbour  no  distrust 
Of  him  thou  blam'st.     Familiar  with  the  pomp 
Of  older  kingdoms,  he  foreruns  the  day 
Of  simpler  Israel.     Nay,  he  ever  loved 
The  ornaments  of  life,  and  claimed  his  due 
Of  rank  and  state  ;  delighted  in  the  blaze 
Of  arms,  and  glistering  face  of  war ;  and  bore 
Himself,  from  his  most  tender  years,  like  one 
Conscious  of  nobleness,  born  to  sustain 
A  kingdom's  burthen. 

Nath.    Son  of  Jesse — 

K.  Dav.    Hath  he  not, 

Since  fourteen  summers  gave  his  sinews  strength, 
Served  with  me  in  the  field,  slept  in  my  tent, 
Hungered,  and  suffered,  watched,  and  toiled  with  me, 
Shed  his  young  blood  by  veteran  captains'  sides, 
And  wielded  those  bright  weapons  you  dispraise 


32  HADAD.  Act  I. 

Beneath  mine  eyes,  in  dire  and  mutual  hazardsy 
Like  a  true  son  and  soldier  ?     Hadst  thou  stood 
Beside  me,  Seer,  at  Helam,  when  the  field 
Shook  with  Barbarian  triumph,  to  behold 
The  fierce  Assyrian  squadrons  darkening  round  me, 
Thou  hadst  not  blamed  his  rushing  wheels  and  steeds 
That  cleft  their  sabaoth,  like  Heaven's  red  bolt, 
With  unhop'd  rescue. — Twice  has  he  redeem'd  me. — 
Shall  time  wear  such  things  from  a  father's  heart  ? 

Nath.    Alas 

K.  Dav.    (Waving  his  hand.)    'Tis  near  the  hour  of 

sacrifice. 
We'll  pause  ere  we  decide  the  Syrian's  suit. 

Nath.    (Making  obeisance.) 
Dwell  ever  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand ! 

[Exit  Nath.     K.  Dav.  retires  into  his  closet.] 


Scene  III.  HADAD.  33 

SCENE  III. 

The  garden  of  ABSALOM'S  house  on  Mount  Zion,  near 
the  palace,  overlooking  the  city.  TAMAR  sitting  by  a 
fountain. 

Tarn.    How  aromatic  evening  grows !  The  flowers, 
And  spicy  shrubs  exhale  like  onycha ; 
Spikenard  and  henna  emulate  in  sweets. 
Blest  hour !  which  He,  who  fashioned  it  so  fair, 
So  softly  glowing,  so  contemplative, 
Hath  set,  and  sanctified  to  look  on  man. 
And  lo !  the  smoke  of  evening  sacrifice 
Ascends  from  out  the  tabernacle.     Heaven 
Accept  the  expiation,  and  forgive 
This  day's  offences  ! — Ha !  the  wonted  strain, 
Precursor  of  his  coming ! — Whence  can  this — 
It  seems  to  flow  from  some  unearthly  hand — 

Enter  HADAD. 


34  HADAD.  Act  L 

Had.    Does  beauteous  Tamar  view,  in  this  clear  fount, 
Herself,  or  heaven  ? 

Tarn.    Nay,  Hadad,  tell  me  whence 
Those  sad,  mysterious  sounds. 

Had.    What  sounds,  dear  Princess  ? 

Tarn.    Surely,  thou  know'st ;  and  now  I  almost  think 
Some  spiritual  creature  waits  on  thee. 

Had.    I  heard  no  sounds,  but  such  as  evening  sends 
Up  from  the  city  to  these  quiet  shades  ; 
A  blended  murmur  sweetly  harmonizing 
With  flowing  fountains,  feathered  minstrelsy, 
And  voices  from  the  hills. 

Tarn.    The  sounds  I  mean, 
Floated  like  mournful  music  round  my  head> 
From  unseen  fingers. 

Had.    When? 

Tarn.    Now,  as  thou  earnest. 

Had.    'Tis  but  thy  fancy,  wrought 
To  ecstasy  ;  or  else  thy  grandsire's  harp 
Resounding  from  his  tower  at  eventide. 
I've  lingered  to  enjoy  its  solemn  tones. 


Scene  III.  HAD  AD.  35 

Till  the  broad  moon,  that  rose  o'er  Olivet, 
Stood  listening  in  the  zenith  ;  yea,  have  deemed 
Viols  and  heavenly  voices  answered  him. 
Tarn.    But  these — 
Had.    Were  we  in  Syria,  I  might  say 
The  Naiad  of  the  fount,  or  some  sweet  Nymph, 
The  goddess  of  these  shades,  rejoiced  in  thee, 
And  gave  thee  salutations  ;  hut  I  fear 
Judah  would  call  me  infidel  to  Moses. 

Tarn.    How  like  my  fancy  !  When  these  strains  precede 
Thy  steps,  as  oft  they  do,  I  love  to  think 
Some  gentle  heing  who  delights  in  us 
Is  hovering  near,  and  warns  me  of  thy  coming  ; 
But  they  are  dirge-like. 

Had.    Youthful  fantasy, 

Attuned  to  sadness,  makes  them  seem  so,  lady. 
So  evening's  charming  voices,  welcomed  ever, 
As  signs  of  rest  and  peace  ; — the  watchman's  call,' 
The  closing  gates,  the  Levite's  mellow  trump 
Announcing  the  returning  moon,  the  pipe 
Of  swains,  the  bleat,  the  bark,  the  housing-bell, 
Send  melancholy  to  a  drooping  soul. 


36  HADAD.  Act  L 

Tarn.    But  how  delicious  are  the  pensive  dreams 
That  steal  upon  the  fancy  at  their  call ! 

Had.    Delicious  to  behold  the  world  at  rest. 
Meek  labour  wipes  his  brow,  and  intermits 
The  curse,  to  clasp  the  younglings  of  his  cot ; 
Herdsmen,  and  shepherds,  fold  their  flocks — and  hark  ! 
What  merry  strains  they  send  from  Olivet ! 
The  jar  of  life  is  still ;  the  city  speaks 
In  gentle  murmurs  ;  voices  chime  with  lutes 
Waked  in  the  streets  and  gardens ;  loving  pairs 
Eye  the  red  west  in  one  another's  arms  ; 
And  nature,  breathing  dew  and  fragrance,  yields 
A  glimpse  of  happiness,  which  He,  who  formed 
Earth  and  the  stars,  had  power  to  make  eternal. 

Tarn.    Ah !  Hadad,  meanest  thou  to  reproach  the  Friend 
Who  gave  so  much,  because  he  gave  not  all  ? 

Had.    Perfect  benevolence,  methinks,  had  willed 
Unceasing  happiness,  and  peace,  and  joy  ; 
Filled  the  whole  universe  of  human  hearts 
With  pleasure,  like  a  flowing  spring  of  life. 

Tarn.    Our  Prophet  teaches  so,  till  man  rebelled. 


Scene  IIL  HADAD.  37 

Had.    Mighty  rebellion  !  Had  he  'leagured  Heaven 
With  beings  powerful,  numberless,  and  dreadful, 
Strong  as  the  enginery  that  rocks  the  world 
When  all  its  pillars  tremble  ;  mixed  the  fires 
Of  onset  with  annihilating  bolts 
Defensive  vollied  from  the  throne ;  this,  this 
Had  been  rebellion  worthy  of  the  name, 
Worthy  of  punishment.     But  what  did  man  ? 
Tasted  an  apple  !  and  the  fragile  scene, 
Eden,  and  innocence,  and  human  bliss, 
The  nectar-flowing  streams,  life-giving  fruits, 
Celestial  shades,  and  amaranthine  flowers, 
Vanish  ;  and  sorrow,  toil,  and  pain,  and  death. 
Cleave  to  him  by  an  everlasting  curse. 

Tarn.    Ah  !  talk  not  thus. 

Had.    Is  this  benevolence  ? — 
Nay,  loveliest,  these  things  sometimes  trouble  me  : 
For  I  was  tutored  in  a  brighter  faith. 
Our  Syrians  deem  each  lucid  fount,  and  stream. 
Forest,  and  mountain,  glade,  and  bosky  dell, 
Peopled  with  kind  divinities,  the  friend? 


38  HADAD.  Act  1. 

Of  man,  a  spiritual  race  allied 

To  him  by  many  sympathies,  who  seek 

His  happiness,  inspire  him  with  gay  thoughts, 

Cool  with  their  waves,  and  fan  him  with  their  airs. 

O'er  them,  the  Spirit  of  the  Universe, 

Or  Soul  of  Nature,  circumfuses  all 

With  mild,  benevolent,  and  sun-like  radiance  ; 

Pervading,  warming,  vivifying  earth, 

As  spirit  does  the  body,  till  green  herbs, 

And  beauteous  flowers,  and  branchy  cedars  rise  ; 

And  shooting  stellar  influence  through  her  caves, 

Whence  minerals  and  gems  imbibe  their  lustre. 

Tarn.    Dreams,  Hadad,  empty  dreams. 

Had.    These  Deities 
They  invocate  with  cheerful  gentle  rites, 
Hang  garlands  on  their  altars,  heap  their  shrines 
W  ith  Nature's  bounties,  fruits,  and  fragrant  flowers. 
Not  like  yon  gory  mount  that  ever  reeks — 

Tarn.    Cast  not  reproach  upon  the  holy  altar. 

Had.    Nay,  sweet. — Having  enjoyed  all  pleasures  here 
That  Nature  prompts,  but  chiefly  blissful  love, 


Scene  III.  HADAD. 

At  death,  the  happy  Syrian  maiden  deems 

Her  immaterial  flies  into  the  fields, 

Or  circumambient  clouds,  or  crystal  brooks, 

And  dwells,  a  Deity,  with  those  she  worshipped ; 

Till  time,  or  fate,  return  her  in  its  course 

To  quaff,  once  more,  the  cup  of  human  joy. 

Tarn.    But  thou  believ'st  not  this. 

Had.    I  almost  wish 

Thou  didst ;  for  I  have  feared,  my  gentle  Tamar, 
Thy  spirit  is  too  tender  for  a  Law 
Announced  in  terrors,  coupled  with  the  threats 
Of  an  inflexible  and  dreadful  Being, 
Whose  word  annihilates,  whose  awful  voice 
Thunders  the  doom  of  nations,  who  can  check 
The  sun  in  heaven,  and  shake  the  loosened  stars, 

Like  wind-tossed  fruit,  to  earth,  whose  fiery  step 

i 
The  earthquake  follows,  whose  tempestuous  breath 

Divides  the  sea,  whose  anger  never  dies, 
Never  remits,  but  everlasting  burns, 
Burns  unextinguished  in  the  deeps  of  Hell. 
Jealous,  implacable — 


40  HADAD.  Act  I. 

Tarn.    Peace  !  impious  !  peace  ! 

Had.    Ha  !  says  not  Moses  so  ? 
The  Lord  is  jealous. 

Tarn.    Jealous  of  our  faith, 
Our  love,  our  true  obedience,  justly  his  ; 
And  a  poor  recompense  for  all  his  favours. 
Implacable  he  is  not ;  contrite  man, 
Ne'er  found  him  so. 

Had.    But  others  have, 
If  oracles  be  true. 

Tarn.    Little  we  know 
Of  them  ;  and  nothing  of  their  dire  offence. 

Had.    I  meant  not  to  displease,  love  ;  but  my  soul 
Sometimes  revolts,  because  I  think  thy  nature 
Shudders  at  him  and  yonder  bloody  rites. 
How  dreadful !  when  the  world  awakes  to  light, 
And  life,  and  gladness,  and  the  jocund  tide 
Bounds  in  the  veins  of  every  happy  creature, 
Morning  is  ushered  by  a  murdered  victim, 
Whose  wasting  members  reek  upon  the  air, 
Polluting  the  pure  firmament ;  the  shades 


Scene  III.  HADAD.  41 

Of  evening  scent  of  death  ;  almost,  the  shrine 
O'ershadowed  by  the  holy  Cherubim  ; 
And  where  the  clotted  current  from  the  altar 
Mixes  with  Kedron,  all  its  waves  are  gore. 
Nay,  nay,  I  grieve  thee — 'tis  not  for  myself, 
But  that  I  fear  these  gloomy  things  oppress 
Thy  soul,  and  cloud  its  native  sunshine. 
Tarn,    (in  tears,  clasping  her  hands.) 
Witness,  ye  Heavens  !  Eternal  Father,  witness  ! 
Blest  God  of  Jacob  !  Maker !  Friend  !  Preserver ! 
That  with  my  heart,  my  undivided  soul, 
1  love,  adore,  and  praise  thy  glorious  name, 
Confess  thee  Lord  of  all,  believe  thy  Laws 
Wise,  just,  and  merciful,  as  they  are  true. 

0  Hadad,  Hadad  !  you  misconstrue  much 
The  sadness  that  usurps  me — 'tis  for  thee 

1  grieve — for  hopes  that  fade — for  your  lost  soul. 
And  my  lost  happiness. 

Had,    O  say  not  so, 
Beloved  Princess.     Why  distrust  my  faith  ? 


42  HAD  AD.  Act 'I. 

Tarn.    Thou  know'st,  alas,  my  weakness ;  but  remember, 
I  never,  never  will  be  thine,  although 
The  feast,  the  blessing,  and  the  song  were  past, 
Though  Absalom  and  David  called  me  bride, 

x 

Till  sure  thou  own'st,  with  truth,  and  love  sincere, 

The  Lord  Jehovah. 

Had.    Leave  me  not — Hear,  hear — 

I  do  believe — I  know  that  Being  lives 

Whom  you  adore.     Ah  !  stay — by  proofs  I  know 

Which  Moses  had  not. 

Tarn.    Prince,  unclasp  my  hand.  (Exit.) 

Had.    Untwine  thy  fetters  if  thou  canst. — How  sweet 

To  watch  the  struggling  softness  !  It  allays 

The  beating  tempest  of  my  thoughts,  and  flows 

Like  the  nepenthe  of  elysium  through  me. 

How  exquisite !  Like  subtlest  essences, 

She  fills  the  spirit !  How  the  girdle  clips 

Her  taper  waist  with  its  resplendent  clasp  ! 

Her  bosom's  silvery-swelling  network  yields 

Ravishing  glimpses,  like  sweet  shade  and  moonshine 

Checkering  Astarte's  statue — 


Scene  III.  HADAD.  43 

Enter  a  SLAVE. 

Slave.    One  in  haste 
Inquires  for  you,  my  lord. 
Had.    I  come. 

[Exeunt.] 


ACTVII. 


SCENE  I.     An  apartment  in  ABSALOM'S  house.     ABSALOM 
and  HADAD  in  discourse. 

Ab.    But  you  still  speak  as  if  a  heavy  doubt 
Burthened  your  tongue.     Be  plain.     Think  you  his  love 
Exceeds  a  parent's  charter  ? 

Had.    Troth,  my  lord, 

I  scarce  know  how  to  answer.     All  my  hopes 
Are  so  ingraft  to  yours,  that  I  may  see 
With  jealous  eyes.     What  casts  a  shade  o'er  you, 
Leaves  me  in  darkness  palpable  ;  for  I, 
With  lineal  honours,  may  a  jewel  lose 
Far  dearer  than  Damascus'  diadem. 

Ab.    Think  you — I  say — the  aim  of  his  fond  dotage 
Transcends  the  sacred  limits  of  my  rights  ? 


Scene  L  HAD  AD.  45 

Had.    Why,  then,  my  lord,  I  must  confess,  this  flux 
Of  zeal,  and  duty,  and  officious  homage. 
Observable  of  late,  enforces  me 
To  think  some  ears  about  the  Prince  have  caught 
What  else  I  had  believed  an  envious  fable. 
Ab.    What  fable? 
Had.    Such  I  held  it,  and,  as  such, 
My  duty  bade  me  keep  it.     Curse  the  tongue 
Whence  sland'rous  rumour,  like  the  adder-drop, 
Distils  her  venom,  withering  friendship's  faith, 
Turning  love's  favour — 
Ab.    Speak,  speak. 

Had.    My  lord,  a  whisper  steals  about  the  city, 
Not  widely  known,  or  current  for  a  truth, 
But  credited  by  some, — that,  wrought  upon 
By  Joab  and  the  Seer,  the  King  has  named 
The  royal  heir. 

Ab.    Ha  !  named — and  I  not  know  it? 
Had.    Twice  in  the  gates,  and  thrice  upon  the  walls, 
Was  I  saluted  yesterday,  and  asked 
If  my  lord  Absalom  had  heard  the  rumour, 

7 


46  HADAD.  Act  II. 

'Tis  said,  to  make  the  choice  irrevocable, 
Young  Solomon  has  received,  by  Nathan's  hand, 
The  private  unction. 

Ab.     Vengeance! — What!  anoint  him! 
Th'  opprobrious  blot — make  him  a  spectacle ! 
Trumpet  to  all  mankind  the  damned  deed 
That  scandals  his  gray  hairs,  and  robs  his  life 
Of  half  its  lustre ! 

Had.    Oh,  my  lord,  that's  past; 
And  Time,  sin's  varnisher,  hath  done  his  office. 

Jib.    Good  heaven !  his  very  angel  hides  his  face, 
Even  at  the  name  of  Bathsheba — 

Had.    But  mark  : — 

'Tis  but  a  rumour,  we  may  hope  unfounded : 
Though  ephod-wearers  stroke  their  beards  and  smile. 

Ab.    Founded  or  false,  it  wears  a  treasonous  face, 
And  looks  defiance.     Mitred  heads,  beware ! 
And  younger  brothers ! — Death  !  ere  Absalom 
Tamely  behold  the  lineal  ornament 
Plucked  from  his  crest,  Jerusalem  shall  shake 
Her  rock-built  throne  in  ruins  o'er  our  House, 
And  Aaron's  line  perish  beneath  the  Sanctuary ! 


Scene  I.  HADAB.  47 

Had.    (aside.)  Tremble,  towered  mistress,  that  behold'st 

afar, 
From  thy  embattled  mount,  the  subject  nations  ! 

Jib.    If  I  have  forfeited  my  birthright,  name 
The  action  which  attaints  my  blood.     Have  I 
Preferred  my  safety  to  the  public  weal  ? 
Spared  toil,  or  blood,  at  Israel's  summons  ?  shrunk 
From  any  hazard  to  advance  her  power, 
That  this  same  sin-engendered  seed  should  think 
To  step  before  me  ? — Show  me  on  what  grounds, 
What  plea,  what  pretext,  yonder  harlot's  stripling 
Confronts,  for  precedence,  the  son  of  Kings 
Who  girt  his  harness  in  the  field  ere  he 
Was  born. 

Had.    Let  Joab  answer. 

M.    Were  there  in  't 
A  face  of  justice — but  to  see  my  rights 
Wantonly  trampled  by  an  impious  bandit ; 
A  father's  love,  which  lay  upon  my  heart 
Like  gracious  manna,  vanish  at  the  breath 
Of  an  old  visionary  ;  be  left  blank, 


48  HADAD.  Act  II. 

Because  I  scorn  to  flatter,  and  protest 

My  filial  faith  for  favour,  strips  me  bare 

Of  patience ;  and  I  swear,  ere  brook  such  wrong, 

I'll  give  their  chronicles  a  bloodier  leaf 

Than  Amnon's. 

Had.    Pause  not.     Snatch  the  glorious  prize 
From  brows  that  totter  with  the  mighty  burthen. 

Ab.  How !  Wouldst  thou  blight  my  fame  with  parricide  ? — 
I  threat  usurpers. 

Had.    Prince,  it  is  not  strange 
My  thoughts  outstrip  you.     Hadad's  every  hope, 
Life,  royalty,  and  liberty,  and  love, 
l)epend  on  Absalom.     Who  knows  how  soon 
Those  precious  counsellors,  who  hide  the  beams 
Of  royal  grace  from  you,  may  stigmatize 
Damascus  as  a  dangerous  neighbour  ;  hint 
That  I  am  turbulent,  and  apt  for  war, 
And  may,  hereafter,  shake  the  peace  of  Judah  ; 
Suggest  a  dungeon  as  a  safer  hold ; 
While  Pharpar's  lovely  vale  may  bloom  as  fair 
Beneath  his  Adonijah's  sceptre  ?  Else, 


Scene  /.  HAD  AD.  49 

Why  am  I  held  assurance  for  the  faith 
Which  Syria  never  broke  ? — never,  my  lord — 

Those  levies  which  gave  umbrage  were  to  check 
The  insolence  of  Bosra.     Not  an  hour 
Stand  I  assured  of  life  or  liberty, 
Till  Israel's  crown  empale  my  kinsman's  head. 
Assents  he  to  the  alliance,  which  would  rest 
The  pledge  of  amity  ?  If  his  intents 
Be  fair,  why  hesitate  ?  Can  policy 
Devise  a  surer  bond  to  knit  the  kingdoms  ? 

Ab.  No  matter — King  or  no  King's  leave — she's  thine. 

Had.    I'm  grappled  to  your  fortunes.     But,  my  lord, 
Is  not  the  bond  'twixt  child  and  parent  charged 
With  mutual  duties  ?     If  my  father  stint 
His  love,  neglect  my  nurture,  cast  me  off, 
Or  give  my  lawful  portion  to  another, 
Am  I  his  debtor  still,  to  reverence,  love, 
Obey  ?  or  is  the  obligation  cancel'd  ? 

Ab.    Enough— I'll  know  the  truth  of  this  black  tale, 
If  there's  a  clue  to  trace  it. 

Had.    Might  we  not 
Extract  it  from  the  boy  ? 


60  HADAD.  Act  II. 

Ab.    Thou  hast  a  tongue 

That  strikes  like  music  ;  thou  mightst  charm  his  heart 
To  drop  its  secret. 

Had.    But  how  to  meet  ? — The  Prophet  guards  his  steps 
Close  as  his  shadow. 

Ab.    Oft,  of  late,  I  see  him 
Walking  the  Paradise  and  neighb'ring  orchards, 
With  studious  looks,  among  the  plants  and  flowers. 
With  hut  a  slave :  there  you  may  meet  him  daily. 

Had.    Perhaps  Mephibosheth  might  lend  us  light : 
He  watches  all  things  with  a  dragon's  eye. 

Ab.    Assail  him. 

Had.    Promises  may  make  him  speak  ; 
But  golden  ones. 

Ab.    Nay,  promise  what  you  must. 

Had.    And  be  you  ignorant,  my  lord — that's  best. 
He  carries  strength  ;  for  Benjamin  would  cleave 
To  any  cause  that  served  the  House  of  Saul. 

Ab.    Go  now  in  search  of  them.     Bid,  as  you  pass, 
Ahithophel  attend  me. 

Had.    Yes,  my  lord.    (Exit.) 


Scene  I.  HADAD.  51 

Ab.    And  can  it  be,  my  father  ?  Can  thy  heart, 
Thy  lion  nature,  condescend  so  low  ? 
Canst  thou  still  bend  those  eyes,  whose  awful  beams 
Of  grace  and  glory  I  have  coveted 
As  Heaven,  and  sought  by  noblest  acts  to  win, 
Still  bend  their  favour  on  me,  as  in  days 
When  we  together  breasted  hostile  shocks, 
And  you  surveyed  me,  like  the  parent  ospray 
Her  young  one  tow'ring  from  its  native  cliff  ? 
Still  canst  thou  greet  me  with  that  brow  of  love, 
Radiant  as  Moses',  yet  in  secret  stab  ? 
Stab  where  thou  know'st  'twill  rankle  to  the  death  ? — 
If  this  be  so,  what  need  I  care  for  aught  ? — 
I  never  in  my  proudest  thought  aspired 
To  his  soul's  grandeur.     Death  it  is  to  think 
How  villanous  counsels  warp  the  noble  mind 
From  nature's  bias  ! — Curs'd  be  his  misleaders  ! — 
The  crown  is  mine — by  birth,  by  purchase  mine — 
And  who  shall  rob  me  of  my  glorious  right  ? — 

[Exit.] 


SCENE  II. 

The  King*s  Paradise,  without  the   walls.      HADAD  pacing 
up  and  down  one  of  the  walks.     He  stops  as  he  fronts 

the  city. 

•   . 

Had.    'Tis  so  ; — the  hoary  Harper  sings  aright : 
How  beautiful  is  Zion  ! — Like  a  queen, 
Armed  with  a  helm  in  virgin  loveliness, 
Her  heaving  bosom  in  a  bossy  cuirass, 
She  sits  aloft,  begirt  with  battlements 
And  bulwarks  swelling  from  the  rock,  to  guard 
The  sacred  courts,  pavilions,  palaces, 
Soft  gleaming  through  the  umbrage  of  the  woods 
Which  tuft  her  summit,  and,  like  raven  tresses, 
Wave  their  dark  beauty  round  the  Tower  of  David- 
Resplendent  with  a  thousand  golden  bucklers, 
The  embrazures  of  alabaster  shine  ; 


Scene  IL  HADAD.  53 

Hailed  by  the  pilgrims  of  the  desert,  bound 
To  Judah's  mart  with  orient  merchandise. 
But  not,  for  thou  art  fair  and  turret-crowned, 
Wet  with  the  choicest  dew  of  heaven,  and  blessed 
With  golden  fruits,  and  gales  of  frankincense, 

Dwell  I  beneath  thine  ample  curtains.     Here, 

# 

Where  Saints  and  Prophets  teach,  where  the  stern  Law 
Still  speaks  in  thunder,  where  chief  Angels  watch, 
And  where  the  Glory  hovers,  here  I  war. 
Goaded  by  love,  as  by  immortal  hate 
Of  Him  predicted,  o'er  the  haughty  line 
I  burn  to  consummate  a  double  triumph— 
Ha  !  hold — the  object  of  my  search  approaches. 
Now,  if  the  tale  be  truth  indeed,  or  forged, 
(More  like,)  by  dark  Ahithophel  to  rouse<J> 
The  Prince,  it  matters  not.     His  spirit  seethes 
With  pent  ambition,  like  the  Asphaltic  cavesy 
Whose  black  and  bitter  substance,  boiling  up, 
A  spark  will  kindle. — This  young  minion's  eye, 
Thick  clustering  auburn  curls,  and  sanguine  cheek, 
Reveal  the  destined  worshipper  of  beauty* 

* 


54  HADAD.  Act  II. 

Enter  SOLOMON,  attended  by  two  Slave?. 

•    ' 

Good  morrow,  little  Prince. 

Sol.    Health  to  you,  sir. 

Had.    What  fragrant  flowers  are  those  you  carry  ? 

Sol.    Buds 
Of  Median  myrtle,  mandrake  flowers,  and  camphire. 

Had.    (scenting  them.)  They're  passing  sweet. — 
What  dark-eyed  favourite  didst  thou  pluck  them  for  ? 

Sol.    For  none,  sir. 

Had.    Ha,  methinks  they'd  rarely  grace 
A  lily  bosom  :  many  an  one  would  heave 
At  such  a  token  from  a  gallant  Prince. 

Sol.    I  plucked  them  for  my  herbal. 

Had.    Grace  defend  me, 

Ere  I  had  reached  your  age,  I  held  sweet  flowers 
Created  for  no  end  hut  to  adorn 
Young  damsels,  whose  dark  locks  I  loved  to  braid, 
And  twine  with  rosy  wreaths,  and  prank  their  bosoms. 
Intended  for  the  throne,  as  you  are,  Prince, 
The  loveliest  virgins  in  my  uncle's  court 


Scene//.  HADAD.  55 

Caressed  me  secretly  with  amorous  gifts, 
And  smiled  at  favours  which  I  ravished  from  them. 
Should  you  not  like  a  sweet  young  loving  maid 
To  toy  with,  and  present  with  knots  of  flowers  ? 

Sol.    No,  sir. 

Had.    But  why  ?  it  were  a  harmless  pleasure. 

Sol.    Because  I  would  not  waste  my  spring  of  youth 
In  idle  dalliance.     I  would  plant  rich  seeds 
To  blossom  in  my  manhood,  and  hear  fruit 
When  I  am  old.     Besides,  'tis  said  by  those 
Most  like  to  know,  'tis  not  for  Princes'  sons 
To  follow  wantons,  or  to  love  spiced  drinks. 

Had.    Kings  are  meant  there,  or  sons  of  Kings,  at  least, 
On  whom  the  government  will  rest ; — but  that, 
Perchance,  will  be  your  lot  ? 

Sol.    Perchance. 

Had.    Nay,  more, 
'Tis  said  the  King  has  named  you  to  the  throne  ? 

Sol.    Things,  oft,  are  said. 

Had.    (after  a  pause.) 
But  tell  me  truly,  if  a  beauteous  damsel, 


36  HADAD.  AcilL 

Like  those  young  delicates  about  your  mother, 
With  skin  like  ermine,  cheeks  like  wind-flowers,  hair 
Like  aragamen,  eyes  like  the  gazelle, 
Her  lips  a  braid  of  scarlet — 

Sol.    Or  like  my  cousin  Tamar. 

Had.    Is  she  so  tempting  fair  ? 

Sol.    So  Hadad  thinks. 

Had.    Who  told  you  that,  my  little  Prince  ? 

Sol.    Your  eyes. 

Had.    Speak  they  so  plain,  indeed  ? 

Sol    Not  speak  ;  they  burn. 
For  when  you  gaze  upon  her  beauteous  face, 
I  see  them  kindle  like  the  ruddy  lamps 
That  flame  within  the  tabernacle. 

Had.    Well, 

Do  not  all  eyes  the  same,  whene'er  they  gaze 
On  beauteous  woman,  Nature's  masterpiece  ? 

Sol.    No,  not  like  yours. 

Had.    Hold,  here's  a  box  of  perfume, 
Sent  to  King  Hadad  from  the  farthest  east, 
From  rich  Serendib.     Smell  it,  Prince. 


Scene  H.  HADAD.  S7 

Sol.    'Tisrare — 

It  glides  like  magic  through  me. — Nay,  I  prithee, 
Give  't  me  again. 

Had.    (aside.)    It  works.— Behold  the  lid. 

Sol.    Ye  powers !  what  matchless  youth  and  maid  are 
there  ? 

Had.    Venus  and  Tammuz. 

Sol.    Never  did  my  eyes 
Behold  a  sight  so  lovely. 

Had.    Wouldst  thou  know 
Their  story  ? 

Sol.    Troth,  I  would. 

Had.    Then  sit  we  here 
Beneath  this  spreading  terebinth.     And  first, 
As  you've  been  straitly  watched,  and  kept  so  long 
In  ignorance  of  things  a  Prince  should  know, 
I'll  tell  you  by  what  chance,  ere  I  had  reached 
Your  comely  stature,  I  grew  wiser. 

Sol.    Do. 

Had.    Behind  my  uncle's  palace  spreads  a  park, 
With  lawns,  and  glades,  sunn'd  plats,  and  darksome  woods, 


58  HADAD.  Act  II. 

Through  which  Abana,  limpid  as  this  fount, 
Winds  gently  past  delightful  arhours,  shades, 
And  green  retirements  from  the  noontide  heat. 
In  a  sweet  solitary  nook  o'erhung 
With  trees  of  ancient  beauty,  where  the  stream 
Had  scooped  a  little  basin,  fringed  with  flowers 
Even  to  the  brim,  and  screen'd  from  observation 
By  blossom' d  boughs,  and  aromatic  shrubs 
Clustering  impervious — 

Sol.    Like  the  very  bank 
Where  these  sweet  lovers  lie. 

Had.    Much  like  it,  Prince. 
Here  had  I  stolen  one  day  from  my  attendants, 
And  lay  along  beneath  a  tuft  of  henna, 
Watching  the  idle  water.     Soon,  I  heard 
The  sound  of  voices,  soft,  and  silver  sweet, 
Approaching  in  the  wood.     I  kept  me  still. — 
Anon,  two  heavenly  damsels  of  the  Queen's 
Entered  the  little  arbour,  and  sat  down 
Full  in  my  view  and  hearing.     One  was  white 
As  the  young  lily,  with  luxuriant  braids 


Scene  II.  HAD  AD.  59 

Of  ebony  ;  the  other's  blooming  cheek, 

Like  the  pomegranate,  blushed  through  locks  of  gold. 

Awhile  they  talked  and  laughed,  (love  all  their  themer) 

With  merry  eyes,  and  bright  carnation  lips 

Which  deepen'd  as  they  told  their  amorous  stories. 

At  last,  the  dark-haired  maid  proposed  to  cool 

Their  limbs  and  glowing  bosoms  in  Abana, 

Unsandall'd  her  fair  foot,  undid  the  clasps, 

And  drew  the  jewell'd  buskin  from  a  leg 

Of  ivory,  to  try  the  water's 

Enter  NATHAN, /row  a  walk  near  them. 

—Ha!  Prince, 
The  box ! 

Sol.    (running  to  Nath.) 
Look,  father,  what  a  beauteous  pair ! 
And  smell  the  perfume  Hadad  gave  to  me  : 
'Tis  sweeter  than  the  richest  aloes. 

[The  Prophet  examines  the  box  of  perfume  ;  then  dashes 
it  on  the  ground.     It  flashes,  and  rises  in  smoke.~\ 


60  HAD  AD,  ActIL 

Nath.    (approaching  Hadad  sternly.) 
Who,  what  art  thou,  foul  poisoner  ? — How  durst  thou 
Abuse  with  forms  and  philters  this  young  prince  ? — 
Who  art  thou  ? — Is  it  for  the  love  of  sin  ? — 
Or  art  thou  leagued,  for  some  infernal  purpose, 
With  Hell  against  the  House  of  David  ?— Speak— - 
Who  art  thou  ? 

Had.    (pale  and  agitated.) 
One  unused  to  terms  like  these, 
And  will  requite  them,  reverend  man  of  God. 

Nath.    Glare  not  upon  me  with  those  fiendlike  eyes. 
Thou  haggard,  trembling,  guilt-confounded  wretch. 
I  curse  thee,  and  defy  thee,  in  Heaven's  name  I 
Come,  boy, 

[Exit  with  Sol.] 

Had.    Would  Hell's  eternal  fire  were  round  thee !   Hell's 
Undying  viper  gnawing  at  thy  heart ! — 

[Pacing  violently  to  andfro,  checks  himself, 

as  fearful  of  being  observed.] 
Whence,  wherefore  this  detested  flesh  can  front 
Worst  death,  yet  quails  before  a  tottering  bald-head — 


Scene  II.  HADAD.  61 

Whence  could  he  come,  with  such  a  thief-like  step  ? 
Curs'd  clods!  too  dull  for  aught  but  thunder — Ha! 

Enter  ABSALOM,  at  a  distance. 

He  comes  to  know  our  conference — 'Tis  well — 
Gloom  and  resentment  in  his  mien.     He  seems 
Prepared  for  darker  searching. — When  he  shakes 
Those  ominous  locks,  I  know  the  clime  within, 
As  the  wind's  temper  by  the  lashing  woods. 

M.    What !  hast  thou  seen  him  ? 

Had.    Yes,  my  lord. 

Ab.    What  said 
The  cockatrice  ? 

Had.    Wary  and  shrewd  he  seems, 
And  shunned  my  questions  ;  lesson'd  well,  no  doubt- 
Ere  I  had  fully  proved  him,  Nathan  broke 
Imperiously  upon  us,  and,  with  threats, 
Dragged  him  away. 

M.    I'll  know,  if  Hell  be  moved 
To  answer. 

9 


62  HADAD.  Act  II. 

Had.    Have  you  seen  Ahithophel  ? 

Ab.    He  smooths  it  o'er,  but  shakes  his  head,  and  looks 

* 

More  than  he  dares  confess. 

Had.    What!  will  not  speak ? 

Ab.    Not  plainly,  but  believes,  or  doubts,  at  least ; 
But  I  must  be  resolved.     The  howling  damn'd 
Know  not  my  suffering,  for  they  know  their  doom, 
And  steel  them  to  endurance.     Thus  to  live, 
With  hate  and  love,  revolt  and  reference, 
Fighting  like  hungry  vultures  for  my  heart, 

V'   Fff't  -f 

I  cannot,  will  not,  long. 
v  Had.    Now  would  to  grace 
Some  way — some  thought — 

Ab.    Hast  seen  Mephibosheth  ? 

Had.    My  lord (Pauses  as  in  reflection.) 

Ab.    What  is't  ?-— Declare  thy  mind. 

Had.    I  almost  fear— but,  were  I  Israel's  Prince, 
I  knew  my  counsel. 

Ab.    Palter  not. 

Had.    My  lord, 
A  wondrous  man  is  in  Jerusalem, 


Scene  II.  HAD  AD.  63 

Arrived  three  nights  ago  from  Babylon, 
Bound  into  Egypt  to  consult  the  Sages 
Touching  events  foretold  the  Assyrian  King. 
He  draws  his  lineage  and  his  power  from  one 
Named  in  your  Chronicles,  who  prophesied 
The  Star  from  Jacoh,  and  who  trebly  blessed 
The  conquering  people  whom  the  Lords  of  Moab 
Called  him  to  curse,  the  potent  sage  of  Pethor, 
Chief  of  the  ancient  Magi.     None  has  since 
Equalled  his  power  or  piercing  eye,  till  now ; 
But  this  far-seeing  Mage,  'tis  said,  has  viewed 
Earth's  consummation,  and  declared  what  shall  be 
When  the  last  star  expires. 

Ab.    What,  Balaam-Haddon  ? 

Had.    He's  here  ;  but  keeps  himself  from  public  view. 
A  Syrian  who  had  known  him,  like  myself, 
In  Babylon,  observed  his  caravan 
Enter  an  obscure  court.     I  went,  and  saw. — 
The  awful  front,  and  eye  oracular 
Were  his  indeed.     I  would  consult  him,  Prince. 


64  HADAD.  Act  II. 

Ab.    (after  a  brief  pause.) 

But  such  an  act  might  blast  me.     Were  it  known, 
Idolatry  !  would  ring  from  Dan  to  Besor. 

Had.    Thence,  I  was  doubtful  to  propose  the  step  j 
Not  that  I  held  you  awed  by  Moses'  threats.* 
But  could  not  I  obtain  the  intelligence, 
Without  your  motion  ? 

Ab.    That,  indeed,—- 

Had.    I  burn 

To  know  another  thing,  more  near  to  you 
Than  me,  which  this  great  Magian  could  resolve. 

Ab.    What's  that? 

Had.    What  Spirit  'tis  that  serves  your  father. 

Ab.    Spirit! 

Had.    Many  suppose  he  holds  some  God,  or  Demon 
Bond-servant  to  his  throne,  who  works  his  will, 
And  hath  assisted  all  his  mighty  deeds. 


*  "  The  soul  that  turneth  after  such  as  have  familiar  spirits,  and 
after  wizards, — I  will  even  set  my  face  against  that  soul,  and  will  cut 
him  off  from  among  his  people."  LEVIT.  xx.  6. 


Scent  II.  HADAD.  65 

Ab.     This  is  believed  ? 

Had.    Many  believe  it  here, 
And  'tis  thje  current  faith  of  neighbouring  Kings. 
No  marvel  it  has  missed  your  ear,  my  lord, 
For  you  pay  outward  reverence  to  the  Law, 
And  are  his  son.     Nor  is  it  strange,  methinks, 
Nor  passing  reason.     Look  at  his  broad  realm, 
Stretched  from  Euphrates  to  the  Western  Sea, 
From  Elath  to  Orontes.     Where  is  Edom  ? 
Philistia  ?  Ammon  ?     Where  the  Syrian  thrones, 
Coeval  with  the  world  ?     Who  smote  the  Chaldee  ? 
Broke  Elam's  bow  ?  and  taught  the  Desert  hordes 
To  shun  his  dangerous  frontier  ?     Who  hath  scaped 
Perils  unnumbered  ;  hunted,  like  a  wolf, 
From  den  to  den  by  King  and  people  ?     Who 
In  fourscore  stricken  battles  bathed  his  sword 
In  bloodiest  conflict,  yet  sustains  no  scar  ? 
Who,  weaponless,  o'erthrew  the  Giant  ?     Who 
Hath  piled  the  gold  and  jewels  till  his  vaults 
Resemble  spirit-mines  ?     Who  plucks  the  trunks 
Of  Lebanon,  and  bids  them  arch  his  roofs, 


€6  HAD  AD.  Act  1L 

Or  heaps  them  in  the  vale  like  river  reeds  ? 
Who  takes  the  spirit  captive  with  his  strings, 
Charming  the  ear  with  magic  melody, 
Or  sweeps  his  sounding  kinnor  till  the  soul 
Ascends  the  heaven  of  ecstasy?     My  lord, 
Who  hath  done  more  than  these  ?  in  war,  in  peace, 
The  minion  of  the  time,  excelling  all 
The  Kings  of  earth,  as  yonder  radiant  sun 
The  inferior  orhs  of  heaven  ? — A  shepherd-boy. 

Jib.    True,  Hadad,  and  it  irks  my  inmost  soul 
To  break  my  faith  with  such  a  father.     Were 
He  less,  my  sin  would  be  so. 

Had.    If  he  wrong'dme, 
Though  brighter  than  the  fabled  Seraphim, — 
Were  he  the  God  I  worshipped,— I'd  fall  off. 

Jib.    Misery  attends  me  either  way. 

Had.    My  lord, 

Think  o'er  the  hist'ry  of  his  birth,  whom  foes 
Would  foist  above  you ;  imp  of  an  adultress ! 
Remember  brave  Uriah  bearing  back 
His  doom,  to  leave  the  beauteous  harlot  free ! 


Scene/7.  HADAD.  67 

Had  this  been,  if  the  Lord  protects  his  fortunes  ? 
Or  such  a  guilt-avenging  Being  live  ? 
No, — I  would  learn  by  what  presiding  Genius 
He  works  his  wonders ; — how  subjected  first ; — 
Whether  attracted  by  his  minstrelsy  ; — 
Or  by  some  power  residing  in  his  star ; — 
Or  how ;  for  various  are  the  ways  to  win 
Ascendency  o'er  Spirits ; — and  this  power 
We  know  is  his  ;  for,  while  a  beardless  stripling, 
His  skill  expelled  a  demon  from  his  master. 
Perhaps,  my  lord,  power  strong  enough  exists, 
To  break  the  pact,  and  lure  him  to  your  service. 

Ab.    Well, — see  the  Mage  :  prove  if  his  visioned  eye 
Can  tell  us  what  hath  chanced.     I've  deeper  reason 
Than  you  suspect,  to  prize  their  star-taught  lore. 
Pray  him  to  cast  our  horoscopes,  both  mine, 
And  his,  we  fear  ;  as  for  the  rest,  inquire 
Or  leave  it,  as  you  will.     Thou  hast  not  yet 
Sounded  Mephibosheth  ? 

Had.    Not  yet,  my  lord. 

Ab.    Then  do  not,  till  we  know  the  present  issue. 

[Exeunt.] 


SCENE  III. 

The  house  of  OBIL.     OBIL  and  MALCUTJI.     A  knocking. 

Obil.    Woman,  who  knocks  there  ? 

Mai.    (looking  through  the  lattice.) 
The  crook-back  Maugrabin. 

Obil.    Ha !  open,  Malcuth,  open. 

Mai.    Do 't  thyself. 

The  elvish  slave  shall  knock  till  doom,  ere  I 
Unsheath  a  bolt. 

Obil.  Peace,  shrew.  (Opens  the  door.) 

Enter  MAUGRABIN. 

Mai.    Spawn  of  the  Nile, 
What  seek'st  thou  with  us  ? 

Maug.    Thy  fair  company. — 
Here,  Obil,  take  this  casket — guard  it  safely — 


Scene  III.  HADAD.  69 

There's  more  in't  than  would  purchase  all  your  tribe, 
Nay,  every  hoof  that  roams  upon  the  desert. 
Trust  it  to  no  hand  but  your  master's. 

Obil.    Whose? 
The  King's  ? 

Maug.    Forsooth!  thou  feed'st  his  dromedaries. 
And  he  feeds  thee.     But  is  it  on  his  gold 
Thou  found'st  the  hope  to  see  thy  lovely  sands 
Once  more,  and  view,  at  ease,  from  thy  broad  tent 
Camels,  and  asses,  flocks,  and  herds,  and  slaves 
About  thee  like  the  Patriarch  ?     Call  him 
Thy  lord,  who  makes  thee  lord  o'er  others.     No  ;— 
Thy  master  Hadad . 

Obil.    I'll  obey. 

Maug.    (to  Malcuth.)    Farewell,  sweet  leopardess ! 

[Signs  to  OBIL,  who  lays  the  casket  on  the  table, 
and  follows  him  out.] 

Mai.    They're  whispering — 
Now,  by  our  mother  Hagar,  but  I'll  see 
What  wond'rous  treasure  'tis,    (opens  the  casket.)    A  lying 
knave  ! 

10 


70  HADAD.  Act  II. 

'Tis  nothing  but  a  monstrous  key— enchased 
As  for  some  royal  sepulchre — Ha !  how  ? — 
It  will  not  close — and  Maugrabin's  returning. 

[Throws  it  down,  and  exit.] 


SCENE  IV. 

The  terraced  roof  of  ABSALOM'S  house,  by  night ;  adorned  with 
-vases  of  flowers,  and  fragrant  shrubs:  an  awning  spread 
over  part  of  it.  TAMAR  and  HADAD. 

Tarn.    No,  no,  I  well  remember — proofs,  you  said, 
Unknown  to  Moses. 

Had*    Well,  my  love,  thou  know'st 
I've  been  a  traveller  in  various  climes  ; 
Trod  Ethiopia's  scorching  sands,  and  scaled 
The  snow-clad  mountains  ;  trusted  to  the  deep  ^ 
Traversed  the  fragrant  islands  of  the  sea, 
And  with  the  Wise  conversed  of  many  nations. 

Tarn.    I  know  thou  hast. 


Scene  IF.  HAD  AD.  71 

Had.    Of  all  mine  eyes  have  seen, 
The  greatest,  wisest,  and  most  wonderful, 
Is  that  dread  sage,  the  Ancient  of  the  Mountain. 

Tarn.    Who? 

Had.    None  knows  his  lineage,  age,  or  name :  his  locks 
Are  like  the  snows  of  Caucasus  ;  his  eyes 
Beam  with  the  wisdom  of  collected  ages. 
In  green  unbroken  years,  he  sees,  'tis  said, 
'The  generations  pass,  like  autumn  fruits, 
Garnered,  consumed,  and  springing  fresh  to  life, 
Again  to  perish,  while  he  views  the  sun, 
The  seasons  roll,  in  rapt  serenity, 
And  high  communion  with  celestial  powers. 
Some  say  'tis  Shem,  our  father,  some  say  Enoch, 
And  some  Melchisideck. 

Tarn.    I've  heard  a  tale 
Like  this,  but  ne'er  believed  it. 

Had.  I  have  proved  it. — 
Through  perils  dire,  dangers  most  imminent, 
Seven  days  and  nights  midst  rocks  and  wildernesses, 
And  boreal  snows,  and  never-thawing  ice, 


72  HADAD.  Aci  II. 

Where  not  a  bird,  a  beast,  a  living  thing, 
Save  the  far-soaring  vulture  comes,  I  dared 
My  desperate  way,  resolved  to  know,  or  perish. 
Tarn.    Rash,  rash  advent'rer ! 
Had.  On  the  highest  peak 
Of  stormy  Caucasus,  there  blooms  a  spot 
On  which  perpetual  sunbeams  play,  where  flowers 
And  verdure  never  die  ;  and  there  he  dwells. 
Tarn.     But  did'st  thou  see  him  ? 
Had.  Never  did  I  view 
Such  awful  majesty  :  his  reverend  locks 
Hung  like  a  silver  mantle  to  his  feet, 
His  raiment  glistered  saintly  white,  his  brow 
Rose  like  the  gate  of  Paradise,  his  mouth 
Was  musical  as  its  bright  guardians'  songs. 

Tarn.    What  did  he  tell  thee  ?     O !  what  wisdom  fell 
From  lips  so  hallowed  ? 

Had.    Whether  he  possess 
The  Tetragrammaton, — the  powerful  Name 
Inscribed  on  Moses'  rod,  by  which  he  wrought 
Unheard  of  wonders,  which  constrains  the  Heavens 


Scene  IV.  HAD  AD.  73 

To  shower  down  blessings,  shakes  the  earth,  and  rules 

The  strongest  Spirits  ;  or  if  God  hath  given 

A  delegated  power,  I  cannot  tell. 

But  'twas  from  him  I  learned  their  fate,  their  fall, 

Who,  erewhile,  wore  resplendent  crowns  in  Heaven  ; 

Now,  scattered  through  the  earth,  the  air,  the  sea. 

Them  he  compels  to  answer,  and  from  them 

Has  drawn  what  Moses,  nor  no  mortal  ear. 

Has  ever  heard. 

Tarn.    But  did  he  tell  it  thee  ? 
Had.    He  told  me  much — more  than  I  dare  reveal ; 
For  with  a  dreadful  oath  he  sealed  my  lips. 

Tarn.    But  canst  thou  tell  me  nothing  ? — Why  unfold 
So  much,  if  I  must  hear  no  more  ? 

Had.    You  hade 

Explain  my  words,  almost  reproached  me,  sweet, 
For  what  by  accident  escaped  me. 

Tarn.    Ah! 

A  little — something  tell  me — sure,  not  all 
Were  words  inhibited. 


74  HADAD.  Act  II. 

Had.    Then,  promise  never, 
Never  to  utter  of  this  conference 
A  breath  to  mortal. 

Tarn.    Solemnly  I  vow. 

Had.    Even  then,  'tis  little  I  can  say,  compared 
With  all  the  marvels  he  related. 

Tarn.    Come, 
I'm  breathless — Tell  me  how  they  sinn'd,  how  fell. 

Had.    Their  Head,  their  Prince  involved  them  in  his  ruin. 

Tarn.    What  black  offence  on  his  devoted  head 
Drew  endless  punishment  ? 

Had.    The  wish  to  be 
Like  the  All-Perfect. 

Tarn.    Arrogating  that 
Due  only  to  his  Maker !  awful  crime ! 
But  what  their  doom  ?  their  place  of  punishment  ? 

Had.    Above,  about,  beneath  ;  earth,  sea,  and  air ; 
Their  habitations  various  as  their  minds, 
Employments,  and  desires/2) 

Tarn.    But  are  they  round  us,  Hadad  ?  not  confined 
In  penal  chains  and  darkness  ? 


Scene  IV.  HADAB,  75 

Had.    So  he  said ; 

And  so  your  holy  books  infer.     What  saith 
Your  Prophet  ?  what  the  Prince  of  Uz  ? 

Tarn.    I  shudder, 
Lest  some  dark  Minister  be  near  us  DOW. 

Had.    You  wrong  them.     They  are  bright  Intelligences, 
Robbed  of  some  native  splendour,  and  cast  down, 
'Tis  true,  from  Heaven ;  but  not  deformed,  and  foul, 
Revengeful,  malice-working  Fiends,  as  fools 
Suppose.     They  dwell,  like  Princes,  in  the  clouds  : 
Sun  their  bright  pinions  in  the  middle  sky  ; 
Or  arch  their  palaces  beneath  the  hills, 
With  stones  inestimable  studded  so, 
That  sun  or  stars  were  useless  there. 

Tarn.    Good  heavens ! 

Had.    He  bade  me  look  on  rugged  Caucasus,. 
Crag  piled  on  crag  beyond  the  utmost  ken, 
Naked,  and  wild,  as  if  creation's  ruins 
Were  heaped  in  one  immeasurable  chain 
Of  barren  mountains,  beaten  by  the  storms 
Of  everlasting  winter.     But,  within 


76  HAD  AD.  Act  II. 

Are  glorious  palaces,  and  domes  of  light, 
Irradiate  halls,  and  crystal  colonnades, 
Vaults  set  with  gems  the  purchase  of  a  crown. 
Blazing  with  lustre  past  the  noon-tide  beam, 
Or,  with  a  milder  beauty,  mimicking 
The  mystic  signs  of  changeful  Mazzaroth. 

Tarn.    Unheard  of  splendour ! 

Had.    There  they  dwell,  and  muse, 
And  wander  ;  Beings  beautiful,  immortal, 
Minds  vast  as  heaven,  capacious  as  the  sky, 
Whose  thoughts  connect  past,  present,  and  to  comer 
And  glow  with  light  intense,  imperishable. 
Thus,  in  the  sparry  chambers  of  the  Sea 
And  Air-Pavilions,  rainbow  Tabernacles, 
They  study  Nature's  secrets,  and  enjoy 
No  poor  dominion. 

Tarn.    Are  they  beautiful, 
And  powerful  far  beyond  the  human  race  ? 

Had.    Man's  feeble  heart  cannot  conceive  it.     Whew 
The  sage  described  them,  fiery  eloquence 
Flowed  from  his  lips,  his  bosom  heaved,  his  eyes 


Scene  IV.  HADAD.  77 

Grew  bright  and  mystical ;  moved  by  the  theme, 
Like  one  who  feels  a  deity  within. 

Tarn.  Wondrous ! — What  intercourse  have  they  with  men? 

Had.    Sometimes  they  deign  to  intermix  with  man, 
But  oft  with  woman. 

Tarn.    Ha !  with  woman  ? 

Had.    She 

Attracts  them  with  her  gentler  virtues,  soft, 
And  beautiful,  and  heavenly,  like  themselves. 
They  have  been  known  to  love  her  with  a  passion 
Stronger  than  human. 

Tarn.    That  surpasses  all 
You  yet  have  told  me. 

Had.    This  the  Sage  affirms ; 
And  Moses,  darkly. 

Tarn.    How  do  they  appear  ? 
How  manifest  their  love  ? 

Had.    Sometimes  'tis  spiritual,  signified 
By  beatific  dreams,  or  more  distinct 
And  glorious  apparition. — They  have  stooped 

11 


78  HADAD.  Act  11. 

To  animate  a  human  form,  and  love 
Like  mortals. 

Tarn.    Frightful  to  be  so  beloved ! 
Who  could  endure  the  horrid  thought ! — What  makes 
Thy  cold  hand  tremble  ?  or  is't  mine 
That  feels  so  deathy? 

Had.    Dark  imaginations  haunt  me 
When  I  recall  the  dreadful  interview. 

Tarn.    O,  tell  them  not — I  would  not  hear  them. 

Had.    But  why  contemn  a  Spirit's  love  ?  so  high, 
So  glorious,  if  he  haply  deigned  ? — 

Tarn.    Forswear 
My  Maker !  love  a  Demon ! 

Had.    No— O,  no— 
My  thoughts  but  wandered — Oft,  alas  !  they  wander. 

Tarn.    Why  dost  thou  speak  so  sadly  now? — And  lo ! 
Thine  eyes  are  fixed  again  upon  Arcturus. 
Thus  ever,  when  thy  drooping  spirits  ebb, 
/Tliou  gazest  on  that  star.     Hath  it  the  power 

To  cause  or  cure  thy  melancholy  mood  ? 

[He  appears  lost  in  thought.] 
Tell  me,  ascrib'st  thou  influence  to  the  stars  ? 


Scene  IV.  HAD  AD.  79 

Had.    (starting.)    The  stars  !  What  know'st  thou  of  the 
stars? 

Tarn.    I  know  that  they  were  made  to  rule  the  night. 

Had.    Like  palace  lamps!  Thou  echoest  well  thy  grand- 
sire. 

Woman!  the  stars  are  living,  glorious, 
Amazing,  infinite ! 

Tarn.    Speak  not  so  wildly. — 
I  know  them  numberless,  resplendent,  set 
As  symbols  of  the  countless,  countless  years 
That  make  eternity. 

Had.    Eternity  !— 

Oh !  mighty,  glorious,  miserable  thought ! — 
Had  ye  endured  like  those  great  sufferers, 
Like  them,  seen  ages,  myriad  ages  roll ; 
Could  ye  but  look  into  the  void  abyss 
With  eyes  experienced,  unobscured  by  torments, — 
Then  mightst  thou  name  it,  name  it  feelingly. 

Tarn.    What  ails  thee,  Hadad  ? — Draw  me  not  so  close. 

Had.  Tamar !  I  need  thy  love — more  than  thy  love — 

Tarn.    Thy  cheek  is  wet  with  tears — Nay,  let  us  part — 


80  HADAD.  Act  II. 

'Tis  late — I  cannot,  must  not  linger. — 

[Breaks  from  him,  and  exit.] 

Had.    Loved  and  abhorred  ! — Still,  still  accurs'd  f — 
[He  paces,  twice  or  thrice,  up  and  down,  with 
passionate  gestures  ;  then  turns  his  face  to 
the  sky,  and  stands  a  moment  in  silence.] 

— Oh!  where, 

In  the  illimitable  space,  in  what 
Profound  of  untried  misery,  when  all 
His  worlds,  his  rolling  orbs  of  light,  that  fill 
With  life  and  beauty  yonder  infinite, 
Their  radiant  journey  run,  for  ever  set, 
Where,  where,  in  what  abyss  shall  I  be  groaning  ? 

[Exit.] 


A  C  T  III. 


SCENE  I.  The,  inner  apartment  of  DAVID'S  sepulchre,  filled 
with  treasure  :  a  sarcophagus  of  Egyptian  porphyry 
standing  in  the  centre.  Enter  ABSALOM,  HADAD  and  BA- 
LAAM-HADDON,  as  from  another  chamber  of  the  tomb.  B. 
HADDON  carries  a  lamp,  and  a  silver  vessel  for  the  burning 
of  perfume. 

B.  Hadd.    Behold,  my  lord,  the  last  and  richest !  Here, 
Nothing  but  gold  of  Ophir,  pearls,  and  gems 
Of  priceless  value.     How  they  catch  the  lamp  beams, 
And  sparkle  as  I  wave  it,  like  the  stars 
Upon  a  fitful  night  of  clouds.     And  lo  ! 
The  marble  in  whose  womb  he  means  to  sleep. 

Ab.    It  strikes  me  dumb — what  heaps,  what  mountain 
piles  ! 


82  HADAD.  Act  III. 

The  pillage  of  the  world  were  scarce  enough 
To  sum  the  riches  we  have  gazed  upon. 

Had.  But  whence  can  he  have  drawn  them  ?  there's  the 

question. 

He  has  pulled  down,  indeed,  some  barbarous  thrones, 
Made  Syria  tributary,  and  brought  home 
Rich  spoil ;  but  in  the  chambers  of  this  rock  <8> 
Are  treasures  which  the  empires  of  the  earth, 
United,  cannot  equal.     Whence  they  come 
I'm  bent  to  know.     His  flocks,  and  herds,  and  tilth, 
Vineyards,  and  olive-grounds,  and  all  he  draws 
Of  yearly  revenue  from  all  the  tribes, 
From  Elath,  and  the  Eastern  caravans, 
Shrink  to  an  alms. 

Ab.  I  know  not  what  to  think. 
The  Mage  must  answer. 

Had.    Balaam-Haddon,  speak. 

B.  Hadd.    If  there  be  power  in  incantations,  spells, 
Or  potency  in  stars,  or  strongest  magic, 
Or  compounds  such  as  these,  some  one  shall  answer. 


Scene  I.  HAD  AD.  83 

[Places  the  vessel  on  the  farther  part  of  the  sarcophagus, 
heaps  drugs  upon  it,  and  kindles  them  by  the  lamp.'] 

Stand  by  me  here,  my  lords : — Observe,  but  speak  not. 

[A  thick  smoke  rises,  which  envelopes  the  remoter  part  of 
the  tomb  :  ABSALOM  and  HADAD  stand  with  their  eyes 
intently  fixed  upon  it :  B.  HADDON  mutters  an  incantation, 
casting,  from  time  to  time,  perfumes  upon  the  flame.  A 
form  becomes  dimly  visible  amidst  the  smoke  ;  its  eyes  and 
countenance  sparkling.  ABSALOM  continues  silently  ga 
zing.  B.  HADD.  turns  to  him.] 

Address  your  questions  briefly  ;  when  the  smoke 

Decays,  it  vanishes. 
Ab.  Who  art  thou  ? 
Spirit.    The  Genius  of  the  Throne. 
Ab.    Servest  thou  the  King? 

Spirit.    I  serve  the  Throne,  and  him  who  sits  thereon, 
Ab.  Implying  thou  mightst  serve  his  son  ? 
Spirit.  If  he 

Were  chief  in  Jewry. 

Ab.    Canst  thou  make  him  so  ? 


84  HADAD.  Act  III. 

Spirit.    No,  nor  oppose  :  I  have  no  present  power 
Upon  the  hlood  of  David. 

Had.    Prince,  mark  that. 

Ab.    Canst  thou  foresee — Know'st  thou  the  past  ? 

Spirit.    Dim  shadows  of  the  future  lie  before  me, 
Like  forms  in  twilight :  all  things  past  I  know. 

Ab.    Then  answer,  I  adjure  thee,  for  to  this 
Wert  thou  evoked.     Is  Solomon  elect 
To  David's  throne  ?  Has  he  received  the  unction  ? 

Spirit.    The  kingly  oil  hath  flowed  upon  his  locks. 

Had.    Change  not,  my  lord. — What  boots  a  horn  of  oil 
Against  that  sword,  that  military  arm, 
Thy  power  in  Israel  ? 

Ab.    And  now  I  care  not — Heaven  or  Hell  to  aid, 
I'll  prove  the  issue.     Spirit,  art  thou  bound 
By  ties  indissoluble  to  the  King  ? 

Spirit.  I  serve  the  Throne,  till  thrice  three  times  revolve* 

Ab.    Three  times— 

B.  Hadd.    So  Spirits  reckon  ;  he  will  not  reveal, — 
Who  bound  thee  ? 

Spir.    Jesse's  son. 


Scene  I.  HAD  AD.  83 

B.  Hadd.    Serv'st  thou  in  love  ? 
Spirit.    No ;  for  he  hath  not  kept  his  covenant. 
Ab.    But  shall  the  son  of  Bathsheha  be  King  ? 
Spirit.    He  may  be,  or  may  not. 
Ab.    How  know'st  thou  that  ? 
Spirit.    I  read  it  in  thy  horoscope. 
Ab.    Know'st  thou 
My  destiny  ? 

Spirit.    I  know  what  may  be. 
Ab.  Speak, 

Reveal,  I  do  beseech  thee,  mighty  Power, 
How  I  may  hold  my  lawful  birthright. 
B.Hadd.    Speak. 

Spirit.  What  said  the  Chaldee  whom  thou  saw'st  at  Geshur  ? 
Ab.    Ha! 

Spirit.    What  answer  brought  he  from  the  palace  tower 
Of  Talmai,  on  the  night  of  Pentecost  ? 
Ab.    The  holy  Gods! 

Spirit.    A  hostile  Planet  near  allied  to  thee, 
Threatens  eclipse  and  blood ;  o'ercome  but  that, 
And  length  of  days,  and  glory  shall  be  thine. 

12 


86  HAD  AD.  Act  III. 

That  powerful  Star  is  Solomon's,  and  rides 
Hard  by  the  ascendant. 

Ab.    But  hath  not  yet  attained  it  ? 

Spirit.    It  enters  on  the  seventh  of  Tisri. 

Ab.    Gods! 

Had.    So  near  ? 

Ab.    Direct  me.     How  can  I  overcome  ? 

Spirit.    Possess  the  crown  ere  Tisri. 

Ab.    Shall  I,  then, 
Be  fortunate  ? 

Spirit.    Beyond  thy  father,  or  the  happiest  mortal. 

Ab.    And  thou  wilt  serve  me  ? 

Spirit.    As  I  now  do  him. 

B.  Hadd.    Reveal  the  nature  of  thy  services. 

Spirit.    I  give  him  strength,  enlarge  his  heart,  protect 
His  life,  extend  his  realm,  diffuse  his  glory, 
And  rifle,  at  his  bidding,  earth,  and  sea. 

B.  Hadd.    Thou  brought'st  these  treasures  then  ? 

Spirit.  My  servants  did. 

Ab.    Stay — tell  me — shall  I  see  thee — 


Scene  L  HAD  AD.  87 

Spirit.    When  thou  sitt'st 
Upon  thy  father's  throne. 

[The  smoke  disperses ,  the  image  fades 
and  disappears.] 

Ab.    ByAstaroth! 

My  faith  extended  not  to  this :  the  words, 
The  self-same  syllables,  ne'er  breathed  to  mortal, 
In  which  a  potent  Chaldee  summed  my  fate. 

Had.    Nothing  escapes  them. 

Jib.    Hence,  Hadad,  hence  my  fears, 
My  cares,  my  policy,  my  flattering  arts 
To  win  the  people,  and  strike  root  so  deep 
That  none  could  pluck  me : — Ever  in  my  ears 
Rung  the  presaging  voice  ; — and  years  of  toil 
Yield  but  this  hairbreadth.     How,  in  half  a  moon, 
Could  I  have  built  my  name  to  that  great  height, 
Needful  to  front  my  father's  power  ?  how  sought 
The  dangerous  elements  ?  how  organized  them  ? 
Now,  like  Manoah's  son,  my  hidden  strength 
Can  shake  the  kingdom  when  my  trumpet  sounds. 


88  HADAD.  Act  III. 

Had.    (to  B.  Hadd.) 
What    seest  thou  ? — what    transports    thee  ? — what's    the 

wonder  ? 

B.  Hadd.    Lo !  on  the  far  horizon  towers  a  form 
Enthroned  upon  a  pedestal  so  high 
That  East  and  West  behold  it ;  nations  kneel 
To  kiss  its  base  ;  the  symbol  in  its  hand 
Marks  universal  power  ;   its  radiant  head 
Bears  to  the  sky  a  diadem  so  bright 
That  suns  look  pale  ;  its  arm  gigantic  crests 
Heaven,  like  the  zodiac,  and  o'erawes  the  world  ; 
Mountains  unhoard  their  treasures,  ocean  breaks 
Obedient  at  its  footstool ;  every  tongue 
And  people  shout,  Hosanna  to  the  Son 
Of  David  ! 

Had.    (starting.)    Ha ! 

Ab.    He  faints. 

Had.    The  wonted  trance — 
Thus  lay  the  son  of  Beor  on  Mount  Pisgah, 

By  Balak's  altars. Powers  Demonian,  mark. 

Record !    (aside.) 


Scene  I.  HADAD.  89 

Ab.    But  heard  you  how  he  spake  ? 

Had.    He  spake 

The  Spirit's  bidding,  Prince.     Observed  you  not 
The  supernatural  brightness  of  his  eye, 
The  majesty  that  swelled  his  form,  his  voice 
How  godlike  ?     Into  him  the  Shadow  passed. 
Foretold,  and  left  him. 

Ab.    Barest  thou  hope  for  me 
So  vast  an  empire,  so  magnificent  ? 

Had.    My  lord,  my  lord,  thou  deem'st  this  little  realm 
Much,  and  aspir'st,  as  to  the  top  of  glory, 
To  rule  these  Tribes,  and  curb  the  neighbour  Kings ; 
But  seest  not,  for  thou  hast  not  roamed  the  world, 
Kingdoms  on  kingdoms  opening  to  thy  view, 
In  prospect  dazzling  as  the  vales  of  Heaven  ; 
Thrones  ancient  as  the  Flood,  where  mighty  Kings 
Rule,  toward  the  rising  sun,  o'er  plains  where  gold, 
And  ivory,  and  aloes,  and  almug, 
Abound  like  olives  on  the  hills  of  Judah, 
Or  palms  by  Jericho,  where  spicy  Isles 
Perfume  the  seas,  and  coral  rocks  and  pearl 


90  HADAD.  Act  HI. 

Glitter  along  the  shore.     There  thou  mayst  win 

Thy  conquering  way,  there  plant  thy  throne,  and  wield 

The  universal  sceptre. 

Jib.    Is  thy  tongue 
Endued  with  witchcraft  ? 

Had.    None  thou  need'st,  to  stand 
The  World's  acknowledged  Master.     Hadst  thou  not 
The  Spirit's  promise,  in  these  caves  behold 
A  talisman,  and  in  thy  father's  veterans 
Unshrinking  agents  to  thy  coldest  wish. 
He  from  the  sheep-cote  to  the  sceptre  rose  5 
Thou,  with  that  sceptre,  grasped  in  manhood's  prime, 
Mayst  subjugate  mankind.     But  such  designs 
Require  immediate  action,  cannot  linger 
An  old  man's  ebbing  sands  :  that  were  to  lose 
Irreparable  time,  which,  seized,  extends 
Thy  empire  past  the  pillars  of  Sesostris. 

Ab.    Come,  these  are  fond  conceits  that  make  one  giddy. 
The  place,  or  hour,  or  that  unearthly  form, 
Whose  thrilling  accents  vibrate  in  my  ears, 
Or  thy  wild  visions,  or  these  heaps  of  gold, 


Scene'II.  HADAD.  91 

Disorder  me.  My  brain  seems  all  on  tire. 
Yet  a  sepulchral  coldness  numbs  my  heart. 
Let's  leave  this  treasure-house  of  death.  I'll  pause. 

This  night,  upon  it.     If  to-morrow  dawn 
Upon  my  unchanged  purpose,  thou  must  speed 
To  Geshur,  and,  perhaps,  Damascus. 

Had.    Look, 
The  Mage  recovers  ;  let  us  lead  him  hence.* 

[Exeunt.'] 


SCENE  II. 

An  apartment  in  OBIL'S  house  :  OBIL  and  MALCUTH. 

Mai.    What  shakes  thee  so,  and  makes  thee  look  so  pale  ? 
Obil.    That  dromedary  Fiend— that  beast  of  Hell- 
Lean,  black,  and  demon-like,  it  stands  ;  it  eats  not, 


*  "He,"(Manasseh,  King  of  Judah,)  "observed  times,  and  used 
witchcraft,  and  dealt  with  a  Familiar  Spirit." — 2  CHRON.  xxxiii.  6. 


92  HADAD.  Act  III. 

Drinks  not  to  satisfy  an  ass's  foal ; 

But  ruminates  the  livelong  day,  and  glares 

Upon  me  when  I  enter,  with  an  eye 

Of  such  unnatural  meaning,  that  I  quake 

Lest  human  words  should  follow.     In  the  gloom, 

Its  eyeballs  hum  like  living  fire.     Just  now, 

As  in  the  twilight  trembling  I  approached  it, 

I  thought — by  Heaven,  I  thought  she  folded  quickly 

A  griffin  wing. 

Mai.    What  senseless  prate  is  this  ? 

Obil.    And  when  I  wait,  by  night,  without  the  walls. 
Long  ere  his  step  is  audible,  she  snorts, 
Springs,  rears,  and  trembles,  turns  her  flaring  nostril 
Up  toward  the  midnight  clouds,  and  paws,  and  spurnsr 
And  vanishes,  when  Hadad  mounts,  as  yet, 
Earth-born  Aashari*  never  did. 

Mai.    And  this 
Has  blanched  thy  manhood  so  ? 

Obil.    I've  mark'd,  besides, 

*  The  fleetest  kind  of  dromedary. 


Scene  II.  HADAD.  93 

When  from  his  night-career,  at  dawn,  he  comes, 
Though  flaked  with  foam,  and  panting  like  a  steed 
That  has  outstripped  the  ostrich,  not  a  hair 
Is  stained,  nor  speck  of  clay  deforms  her  limbs. 
Hassid,  our  son,  is  bold,  and  he  declares, 
On  a  wild  night  while  he  by  Kedron  stood 
Awaiting  in  my  stead,  a  spectral  voice 
Accosted  Hadad  ere  beyond  his  hearing, 
And  in  the  hollow  wind  their  accents  mingled. 

MaL    His  fear,  you  mean,  mistook  the  wind  for  voices. 
Obil.    After  this  present  business,  whose  blind  haste 
Betides  to  beasts  and  riders  length  of  rest, 
I'll  to  my  tents  :  I've  gold  enough :  I'll  tend 
No  demon  coursers,  though  a  Prince  bestride  them. 

Mai.    Thou'dst  hold  the  rein  barehead'  to  Beelzebub, 
So  he  would  stuff  thy  turban  folds  with  shekels. 

Obil.    Peace,  cassowar  !     Has  Maugrabin  been  here  ? 
By  this,  he  said  the  Princes  would  assemble. 
The  watch  is  set :  The  couriers  are  come  in, 
And  lodged  by  Hassid  o'er  the  city  gate. 

Mai.  Know  you  the  purpose  of  these  meetings,  Obil  ? 

13 


94  HADAD.  Act  III. 

ObiL    Hush,  no. — They  bode  more  good  to  Ishmael 
Than  cocker'd  Isaac — Hark !  (A  knocking.)  They're  come. 
Begone. 

[Exit  MALCUTH.] 
[OBIL passes  through  an  outer  room  to  the  door,  and 

returns  assisting  in  MEPHIBOSHETH.] 
Mephib.    Look  to  my  mule,  good  fellow,  wilt  thou,  quick  ? 
Take  her  from  sight. — Are  they  not  come  ? 

ObiL    Not  yet, 
My  lord,  but  'tis  the  hour. 

Mephib.    Well,  dally  not.    [Exit  OBIL.] 
Now  let  me  breathe — no  eye  beholds  me  here — 
But  in  the  streets,  methought,  each  one  I  met 
Gazed  on  me,  whispering  with  suspicious  looks. 
Where  goes  Mephibosheth  at  this  dusk  hour  ?(4) 
Voices  and  feet  seemed  following  me. — 'Tis  strange. — 
How  oft  have  I  preferred  the  evening  shade 
To  visit  Ramah,  or  go  down  to  Bethel, 
Pleased  with  the  starry  dimness !  Now,  the  night 
Seems  but  the  pall  of  guilt.     Conspiracy ! 
If  thou  canst  look  so  grim  to  roe, — dethroned, 


Scene  II.  HAD  AD.  95 

Dishonoured,  stript  of  all  my  noblest  rights, — 

How  colourest  thou  thy  devilish  front  to  him 

The  chief  conspirer  ?  Or,  is  this  hut  weakness  ? 

The  child  of  melancholy  ?  nerves  unused 

To  dangerous  action  ? — I  have  gazed  on  him, 

So  long,  as  Heaven's  Vicegerent,  the  bare  thought 

Of  lifting  rebel  hands  against  him,  thrills 

Like  sacrilege  ;  to  pluck  him  from  his  power, 

Seems  as  to  rend  a  ruling  spring  from  nature, 

Whence  wreck  and  chaos  follow. — Think,  my  soul, 

On  red  Gilboa  !  on  the  walls  of  Bethshan ! 

There  hung  the  Anointed,  while  an  outlaw  snatched 

His  blood-stained  emblems  ! — If  our  compact  hold 

He  yet  shall  render  bitter  tears  to  Saul 

And  mourn,  in  strains  sincere,  the  Mighty  fallen. 

I  know  not  why  I  doubt. — They  promise  fair — 

And  Absalom  respects  his  pledge. — That  Syrian — 

His  subtlety  eludes  me  ;  yea,  a  sense 

Of  secret  and  inexplicable  fear 

Steals  o'er  me  while  I  gaze  into  his  bright 


96  HADAD.  Act  III. 

Unfathomable  eye — Soft !  I  must  hide 
Distrust  beneath  a  smiling  aspect  now. 

[Enter  ABSALOM,  HADAD,  AHITHOPHEL,  MANASSES, 
and  MALCHIAH,  muffled  in  their  mantles,  followed 
by  OBIL,  who  bolts  and  bars  the  door.] 
Ab.    Good  even,  Prince. 
Jlhith.    Prosperity  to  Benjamin. 

(HADAD  speaks  aside  with  OBIL.) 
Mephib.    Health  to  my  lord,  to  grave  Ahithophel, 
To  all. 

Jib.    What,  are  the  couriers  come  ? 
Had.    The  warden  of  the  gate,  good  Obil's  son, 
Has  them  in  custody. 
Jib.    Admit  them. 
Had.    Stay- 
Were  it  not  best  receive  them  separately  ? 
Ab.    No  matter. 

Ahith.    One  by  one,  my  lord,  were  best. 
Jib.    Bring  in  the  Hittite  from  beyond  the  Jordan. 

[Exit  OBIL.] 
There  lie  my  strongest  fears.— Sit  nearer,  friends-— 


Scene' II.  HAD  AD.  97 

In  Gilead  there  are  some  of  wealth  and  power, 
So  rooted  I  could  never  shake  them. 

Ahith.    All 

Grown  old  and  weak  with  him,  and  impotent 
For  good  or  evil.     Fear  them  not,  my  lord. — 
Nay,  look  not  on  my  hoary  locks,  for  what 
Am  I  but  an  expiring  voice,  a  flame 
Blazing  a  moment  to  direct  thy  path, 
And  then  extinct  for  ever  ? 

Re-enter  OBIL,  introducing  a  Courier. 

Ab.    Approach.     Whence  comest  thou  ? 

Courier.    From  Edrai. 

Ab.    Thou  went'st  by  Bethabara : — thence  what  course  ? 

Courier.    I  crossed,  my  lord,  by  Bethabara,  thence 
Along  the  woods  of  Abarim  to  Heshbon, 
Met  there  the  chiefs  of  Gad  and  Reuben  ;  thence, 
Through  Saron,  mountain  Ramoth,  and  Rogelim, 
That  night  to  Edrai. 


98  HADAD.  Jict  III. 

Ab.    Whom  saw'st  thou  there  ? 

Courier.    Both  Princes  of  Manasseh. 

Ab.    What  despatches  ? 

Courier,    (unbuckling  his  belt.) 
This  girdle  for  my  lord. 

Ab.   No  more? 

Courier.    Nothing. 

Ab.    'Tis  well.     Go  to  thy  house.     Have  Puath  near. 

[Exit  Courier.'] 
[ABSALOM  draws  from  the  inside  of  the  girdle  two 

small  rolls,  which  he  opens  and  reads.] 
Lo !  as  I  said,  we  cannot  trust  in  Gilead  : 
Ramoth,  Rogelim,  Lodebar,  and  Jazer, 
With  stubborn  Mahanaim  stand.     But  see, 
My  friends,  what  strength  is  left  us  yet  o'er  Jordan, 
The  cities  charactered  in  red  are  ours  ; 
The  sable  his  ;  the  others  doubtful.     Mark 
How  we  outnumber  them.     Observe  that  cipher 
Concluding  both.     That  bids  us  on.     I  named 
The  time — the  manner — all  the  enterprise, 
And  asked  their  answer. 


Scene' II.  HAD  AD.  99 

Ahith.    Wise  it  is  :  no  foe 
So  formidable  as  delay. 

Ab.    Call  Puath. 

Ahith.    (still  looking  at  the  rolls.) 
Jazer,  and  Lodebar — My  lords,  what  are  they  ? 
Fenced  cities ;  but  with  helpless  people  filled  ; 
Tillers,  and  artisans  ;  no  men  of  war 
Hang  there  the  shield. 

Enter  Second  Courier. 

Ab.    What  bearest  thou  ? 

Courier.     These  signets.     (Drawing  five  signets  linked 
together ,  from  his  bosom.) 

Ab.    I  know  them.     What  of  these  ? 

Courier.    I  was  bid  say, 
Mount  Zalmon  will  reply  to  Hebron's  call. 
Ebal  repeat  it,  Tabor  waft  the  note, 
And  Carmel  echo  it  to  Lebanon. 

Ab.    Aught  more  ? 

Courier.    The  words,  Strike !  Prosper ! 


100  HAD  AD.  Act  111. 

Ab.    Faithful  Puath, 

Go  rest  thee  now.    (Exit  Courier.)    Open,  thou  flying  Hind 
Of  Naphtali,  that  wont  to  bring  good  tidings. 

[Unscrews  one  of  the  signets,  takes  from  it  a  small 
folded  writing,  glances  over  it,  and  hands  it  to  AHI- 

THOPHEL.] 

'Tis  from  Pagiel,  Prince  of  Naphtali, 
Written  in  Ephraim.     All  the  northern  Tribes 
To  Benjamin,  are  sure  : — He  has  passed  down, 
He  says,  communing  with  our  friends  as  far 
As  Shiloh.     Twenty  thousand  valiant  men 
Wait  but  our  summons. 

Ahith.    Welcome  news. 

Ah.    Call  the  remaining  messenger.     This  last 
Has  visited  the  west  and  south  ;  an  old 
And  trusted  follower. 

Enter  Third  Courier. 

—What  tidings,  Caleb, 
From  the  hill  country  ? 


Scene' II.  HAD  AD.  101 

Courier.    Every  face,  my  Prince, 
Is  lifted  to  salute  the  expected  sun. 

Ahith.    All  tiptoe  on  the  mountains,  say'st  thou  ? — Well, 
A  speedy  and  a  glorious  dawn  awaits  them, 
A  rising  such  as  Judah  never  saw. 

Ab.    What  cities  hast  thou  greeted  ? 

Courier.    All  the  chief 
From  Ajalon  to  Kadesh. — This,  from  Giloh, 
My  lord  Ahithophel ;  this  from  the  chiefs 
Of  Ziph  and  Lachish. 

[Takes  letters  from  the  folds  of  his  cap  for  ABSALOM 
and  AHITHOPHEL.] 

Ahith.    (after  perusing  his  despatches.) 
All's  well  j  and  bids  us  not  delay. 

Ab.    This  missive 

Seals  our  resolves.     It  comes  from  Ithamar. 
Our  royal  trumpet  will  be  blown  in  Hebron 
At  the  sixth  hour  to-morrow. 

Mephib.    (starting.)    How !  to-morrow? 

Malchi.    To-morrow,  Prince  ? 

Ab.    Ten  thousand  men  encamp 
14 


HADAD.  Act  III. 


Before  it  ere  that  hour.     By  eventide, 
The  news  must  be  beyond  the  Kishon. 

Mephib.    (aside.)    Moses  ! 

Ahith.    Be  not  surprised,  my  lords  :  Our  safety  lies 
In  suddenness.     The  cloud  is  in  the  heaven, 
The  bolt  must  fly,  or  men  will  shun  it. 

Manass.    Yes,  but  - 

Had.    Pardon,  my  lord  Manasses,  —  I  am  rude,  — 
And  sage  Ahithophel,  our  reverend  Thummim, 
Grant  me  a  word.     We  twice  have  been  convened, 
Without  our  friends  Malchiah  and  Manasses. 
Briefly  to  them  I  state  what  you  have  heard.  — 
I  have  myself  passed  through  the  Tribes  ;  with  all 
The  Princes,  Judges,  powerful  of  our  friends, 
Held  personal  conf'rence  ;  to  the  nicest  point 
Instructed  them;  ta'en  pledges  ;  armed  their  mouths 
With  potent  arguments  ;  explaining  thus 
The  strong  necessity  of  all  we  do. 
The  King,  whom  Heaven  preserve  !  declined  in  years, 
Lets  fall  the  reins  ;  oppressors  lord  it  ;  wrongs 
Cry  in  the  streets  with  none  to  hear  ;  the  Judge 


Scene  II.  HAD  AD.  103 

Sits  not  between  the  gates ;  the  King  nor  hears, 

Nor  substitutes  :  imperious  Joab  rules 

God's  heritage,  and  shakes  his  bloody  hand 

Over  the  innocent :  old  Nathan  sits 

Close  at  his  master's  ear,  whispering  against 

The  People's  Chosen,  bent  to  crown  the  Boy, 

Whom  secretly,  'tis  said,  he  hath  affianced 

To  Pharaoh's  infant  daughter.     When  the  fit 

Of  penitential  horror  shakes  the  King, 

He  talks  of  Amnon — fratricide — and  blood 

Demanding  expiation,  and  alarms 

His  mind  infirm  with  guilt  and  punishment. 

Thus  stands  the  kingdom  ;  thus  your  cherished  hopes 

Totter  to  downfal.     And  will  warlike  Israel 

Behold  her  lawful,  her  beloved  Prince 

Undone  by  treacherous  instruments  ?  submit 

Her  stainless  sceptre  to  a  murderer's  hand  ? 

For  what  awes  ruthless  Joab  from  the  crown 

But  Absalom  ?  Think  you,  a  Prince's  blood, 

A  helpless  youth,  were  sacred  in  his  sight 

If  David  slept,  and  Absalom  were 


104  HAD  AD.  Act  111. 

Who,  only,  never  feared  him  ?     Men  of  Israel, 
Would  you  perpetuate  your  royal  line, 
Age  must  resign  the  rod  of  power  to  manhood. — 
With  these,  my  lords,  and  other  arguments 
Suggested  by  the  wise  Ahithophel, 
Are  they  replenished,  and  prepared  for  action. 
Manass.    Then  let  us  on. 
Had.    My  uncle  promises 
Full  fifteen  thousand  footmen,  and  is  pledged 
A  thousand  chariots,  and  five  thousand  horse 
By  Hadadezer,  if  the  sword  decide  it : 
Our  grandsire  Talmai  empties  all  his  realm. 
Malchi.    I'm  satisfied,  my  lord. 
Mephib.    Sirs,  may  the  son  of  Saul 
A  moment's  audience  crave  ? 
Ab.    Speak,  noble  Prince. 

Mephib.    My  lord,  I  have  allied  to  this  great  cause 
The  strongest  Tribe  save  Judah.     I  demand 
Recognisance,  before  these  witnesses, 
Of  promises  not  mentioned,  as  methinks 
Were  meet,  before  this  solemn  sitting. 


Scene  II.  HAD  AD.  105 

Had.    (smiling  sarcastically  aside.)    Ha  ! 

Mephib.    I  claim  your  oath,  that,  if  by  me,  the  strength 
Of  Benjamin  were  added,  you  would  bound 
Your  power  by  Jordan  eastward,  and  resign 
The  ancient  sovereignty  of  Ishbosheth 
To  me,  the  lineal  heir.     (A  pause.) 

Manass.    Can  this  be  so  ? 

Malchi.    Divide  the  sceptre  ! 

Ahith.    Never ! 

Mephib.    But  he  hath  sworn  it. 

Ab.    If  the  Tribes  consented. 

Mephib.    The  pledge  was  absolute — 
There  stands  your  organ.     Let  him  answer. 

Ab.    Hadad? 

Had.    My  lord  Mephihosheth,  if  I  err  not, 
The  promise  was  conditional. 

Mephib.    'Tis  false! 

By  heaven,  my  lords,  it  was  a  solemn  gage — 
Unclogged — and  bound  his  honour  to  enforce  it'. 

[HAD.  draws  ABSALOM  apart.'] 

Manass.    We  have  no  right  to  mutilate  the  sceptre  ; 
The  royalty  is  Judah's. 


106  HADAD.  Act  HI. 

Ahith.    Fixed  in  him  : 
A  right  perpetual  promised. 

Mepkib.    Mock  me  not 

With  solemn  words.     By  what  right  sit  ye  here 
In  treasonous  council  ?     Plead  ye  right  for  this — 

Had.    The  sooner,  Prince,  the  better ;  suddenly. 

Ab.    (to  Mephib.)    The  question  of  divided  sovereignty. 
Requiring  grave  debate,  and  general  sanction, 
Must  wait  the  assembling  of  the  Tribes,  my  lord. — 
Let  us  dissolve  now  :  all  is  understood. 
My  father's  leave  is  won,  to  sacrifice 
In  solemn  state  at  Hebron,  to  fulfil 
My  vow  in  Geshur.     Meet  me  there  to-morrow. 
The  flower  of  Judah  will  attend  in  arms. 
Stir  with  the  dawn ;  nor  marvel  if  ye  spy 
Friends  of  the  King  upon  the  way  :  I've  bid 
Two  hundred  follow  us,  the  more  to  cloak 
The  enterprise.     And  now,  my  lords,  farewell. 

Manass.    Farewell. 

Malchi.    Farewell  and  prosper,  noble  Prince. 

Mb.    Take  separate  streets,  you  who  ascend  to  Zion. 
I  keep  the  west,  by  Millo. 


Scene-//.  HAD  AD.  107 

Manass.    We'll  be  guarded. 

[Exeunt  all  but  HADAD,  MEPHIBOSHETH,  and  OBIL.] 

Mephib.    (aside.)    This  is  my  recompense 
For  trusting  traitors  ! — Fellow,  bring  my  mule. 

Had.    Stay. — 
You  go  not  forth  to-night. 

Mephib.    Not  forth  !  Presum'st  thou 

Had.    Refrain  from  passion,  Prince :  it  will  not  boot  you. 

Mephib.  Now,  by  the  bones  of  Saul — Bring  forth  my  mule. 

Had.    (to  Ob.)    Stir,  and  thou  diest. 

Mephib.    What !  ruffian,  meanest  to  murder  me  ? 

Had.    Hear  me,  my  lord.     I  know  the  cause  you  have 
Of  discontent :  I  strained  the  Prince's  words 
Something  beyond  their — 

Mephib.    Base,  perfidious — 

Had.    Hush! 

No  matter;  you  and  I  best  know  how  far ; — 
'Twere  needless  repetition.     But  I  see 
Danger  within  thine  eye,  and  I'll  not  risk 
The  safety  of  the  state.     You  must  repose, 
I  say,  beneath  good  Obil's  roof  to-night. 


108  HADAD.  Act  III. 

Mephib.    Villain — 

Had.    Tut !  have  a  care  !  in  ticklish  times 
Like  these,  we  wear  our  daggers  here — and  mine 
Is  sometimes  sudden. — Obil,  mark  my  words. 
Provide  thy  hest  for  Prince  Mephihosheth  ; 
Respect  him  as  myself ;   but  if  he  look 
Beyond  thy  doors,  ere  the  third  morning  hour, 
Your  blood  be  on  ye  both. — What !  hearest  thou  ? 

Obil.    Master,  rev'rently. 

Had.    Remember  !  eyes  will  be  about  these  doors, 
To-night,  which  you  were  best  avoid. — Good  rest, 
My  lord  Mephibosheth. 

[Exit.     Scene  closes.'] 


SCENE  III. 

The,  gate  of  the  city,  looking  down  the  valley  toward  Enro- 
geL  Several  Jews  sitting  in  the  gate.  The  Warden 
walking  with  his  truncheon  in  his  hand. 

First  Jew.    Know  you  what  enterprise  our  Prince  intends 
After  the  sacrifice  ? 

Second  Jew.    No ;  doth  he  any  ? 

first  Jew.    Eliab's  son,  last  night,  'twixt  this  and  Hebron 
Met  his  war  chariot  and  his  battle  steeds. 

Warden.  The  Prince  went  forth  at  dawn  this  morning,  sir, 
Upon  a  mule.     His  chariot  has  not  passed. 

First  Jew.    But  Amariah  saw  it. 

Warden.    When  ?  last  night? 

First  Jew.    Journeying  this  way,  about  the  second  watch, 
He  heard  the  clang  of  hoofs,  and  drawing  close 

15 


110  HAD  AD.  AcillU. 

Beneath  some  sycamores,  beheld  the  car, 

Horses,  and  equerries  go  by,  like  men 

Who  steal  upon  an  enemy.     It  clashed, 

The  place  being  rough,  it  clashed,  as  filled  with  arms. 

Third  Jew.    But  this  is  strange. 

Warden.    It  did  not  pass  this  gate. 

Third  Jew.    Why  go  about  ? 

First  Jew.    Perhaps  he  meditates 
A  swoop  upon  the  restless  Edomite. 

Second  Jew.    Look !  who  comes  there  at  speed  ? 

First  Jew.    See  how  for  life  he  dashes  through  the  brook, 
And  up  the  hill. — Ha !  look — the  animal 
Is  spent,  and  falls — 

Second  Jew.    He  stops  not — lo  !  he  comes 
Like  the  sped  arrow.     'Tis  some  messenger. 

Warden.    'Tis  Zadok's  son.   Fall  back,  and  let  him  pass. 

[Warden  calls  aloud.] 
What  for  King  David? 

[Ahimaaz  rushes  through  the  gate.] 

Mim.    Tidings  !  Close  the  gates. 

[Passes  up  into  the  city.] 


Scene  IF.  HAD  AD.  Ill 

Jews.    What  can  it  mean  ? 
Warden.  Mischance,  I  fear. 
Jews.    Let's  after. 

[Exeunt  into  the  city.'] 

Warden.    His  looks  were  ominous.     I'll  to  the  tower 
And  see  if  any  hostile  shape  approaches. 


SCENE  IV. 

An  apartment  in  ABSALOM'S  house.    NATHAN  and  TAMAR. 

Nath.    Thou'rt  left  to-day,  (would  thou  wert  ever  left 
Of  some  that  haunt  thee  !)  therefore  am  I  come 
To  give  thee  counsel. — Child  of  sainted  Miriam, 
Fear  not  to  look  upon  me  ;  thou  wilt  hear 
The  gentle  voice  of  love,  not  stern  monition. 
Commune  with  me  as  with  a  tender  parent, 
Who  cares  for  all  thy  wishes,  hopes,  and  fears, 
Though  prizing  thy  immortal  gem  above 
The  transitory. 


112  HAD  AD.  Act  HI. 

Tarn.    Have  I  not  thus,  ever  ? 

Nath.    But  I  would  probe  the  tenderest  of  thy  heart, 
Touch  its  disease,  and  give  it  strength  again, 
And  yet  inflict  no  pain. 

Tarn.    What  means  my  lord  ? 

Nath.    I  know  thee  pure,  and  guileless  as  the  dove  ; 
The  easier  prey  ;  and  thou  art  fair,  to  tempt 
The  spoiler — nay,  he  not  alarmed,  but  speak 
Openly  to  me.     I  would  ask  thee,  Princess, 
If  not  displeasing,  somewhat  of  the  stranger, 
The  Syrian  who  aspires  to  David's  line. 

Tarn,    (averting  her  eyes.) 
If  I  can  answer — 

Nath.    Maiden,  need  I  ask, — 

I  fear  I  need  not — is  he  dear  to  thee  ? 

'Tis  well.     But  tell  me,  hast  thou  ever  noted, 
Amidst  his  many  shining  qualities, 
Aught  strange  or  singular  ? — unlike  to  others  ? — 
That  caused  thy  wonder  ? — even  to  thyself, 
Moved  thee  to  say,  How  ?  wherefore's  this  ? 


Scene'  IV.  .   ^  HAD  AD.  113 

Tarn.    Never. 

Nath.    Nothing  that  marked  him  from  the  rest  of  men  ? — 
Hereafter  you  shall  know  why  thus  I  question. 

Tarn.    O  yes,  unlike  he  seems  in  many  things : 
In  knowledge,  eloquence,  high  thoughts. 

Nath.    Proud  thoughts 
Thou  mean'st  ? 

Tarn.  I'm  but  a  young  and  simple  maid, 
But,  father,  he,  of  all  my  ears  have  judged, 
Is  master  of  the  loftiest  richest  mind. 

Nath.  How  have  I  wronged  him  ;  deeming  him  more  apt 
For  intricate  designs,  and  daring  deeds. 
Than  contemplation's  solitary  flights. 

Tarn.    Seer,  his  far-soaring  thoughts  ascend  the  stars, 
Pierce  the  unseen  abyss,  pervade,  like  light, 
The  universe,  and  wing  the  infinite. 

Nath.    (fixing  his  eyes  upon  her.) 
What  stores  of  love,  and  praise,  and  gratitude, 
He  thence  must  bring  to  Him  whose  mighty  hand 
Fashioned  their  glories,  hung  yon  golden  orbs 
Amidst  his  wondrous  firmament ;  who  bids 


114  HAD  AD.  Act  III. 

The  day-spring  know  his  place,  and  sheds  from  all 
Sweet  influences  ;  who  bars  the  haughty  sea, 
Binds  fast  his  dreadful  hail,  but  drops  the  dew 
Nightly  upon  his  People !  How  his  soul, 
Returning  from  its  quest  through  Earth  and  Heaven, 
Must  glow  with  holy  fervour  ! — Doth  it,  maiden  ? 

Tarn.    Ah !  father,  father,  were  it  so  indeed, 
I  were  too  happy. 

Nath.    How ! — expound  thy  words. 

Tarn.    Though  he  has  trod  the  confines  of  the  world. 
Knows  all  its  wonders,  and  almost  has  pierced 
The  secrets  of  eternity,  his  heart 
Is  melancholy,  lone,  discordant,  save 
When  love  attunes  it  into  happiness. 
He  hath  not  found,  alas,  the  peace  which  dwells 
But  with  our  Fathers'  God. 

Nath.    And  canst  thou  1  ove 
One  who  loves  not  Jehovah  ? 

Tarn.    O,  ask  not. 

•Nath.    (fervently.) 
My  child  !  thou  wouldst  not  wed  an  Infidel  ? 


Scene  IV.  HAD  AD.  115 

Tarn,    (in  tears.)    Oh  no  !  Oh  no  ! 

Nath.    Why  then  this  emhassage  ?  Why  doth  your  sire 
Still  urge  the  King  ?  Why  hast  thou  hearkened  it  ? 

Tarn.    There  was  a  time  when  I  had  hopes, — when  truth 
Seemed  dawning  in  his  mind — and  sometimes,  still, 
Such  heavenly  glimpses  shine,  that  my  fond  heart 
Refuses  to  forego  the  hope,  at  last, 
To  number  him  with  Israel. 

Nath.    Beware ! 

Or  thou' It  delude  thy  soul  to  ruin.     Say, 
Doth  he  attend  our  holy  ordinances  ? 

Tarn.    He  promises  observance. 

Nath.    Two  full  years 
Hath  he  abode  in  Jewry. 

Tarn.    Prophet,  think 

» 

How  he  was  nurtured — in  the  faith  of  Idols. — 
That  impious  worship  long  since  he  abjured 
By  his  own  native  strength ;  and  now  he  looks 
Abroad  through  Nature's  works,  and  yet  must  rise — 

Nath.    Speaks  he  of  Moses  ? 

Tarn.    Familiar  as  thyself. 


116  HAD  AD.  Act  111. 

Math.    I  think  thou  said'st  he  had  surveyed  the  world  ? 

Tarn.    From  Ethiopia  to  the  farthest  East, 
Cities,  and  tribes,  and  nations.     He  can  speak 
Of  hundred-gated  Thebes,  towered  Babylon, 
And  mightier  Nineveh,  vast  Palibothra, 
Serendib  anchored  by  the  gates  of  morning, 
Renowned  Benares,  where  the  Sages  teach 
The  mystery  of  the  soul,  and  that  famed  seat 
Where  fleets  and  warriors  from  Elishah's  Isles 
Besieged  the  Beauty,  where  great  Memnon  fell : — 
Of  temples,  groves,  and  superstitious  caves 
Filled  with  strange  symbols  of  the  Deity ; 
Of  wondrous  mountains,  desert-circled  seas, 
Isles  of  the  ocean,  lovely  Paradises, 
Set,  like  unfading  emeralds,  in  the  deep. 

Math.    Yet  manhood  scarce  confirms  his  cheek. 

Tarn.    All  this 

His  thirst  of  knowledge  has  achieved ;  the  wish 
To  gather  from  the  wise  eternal  Truth. 

Nath.    Not  found  where  he  has  sought  it,  and  has  led 
Thy  wandering  fancy. 


Scene  IV.  HAD  AD.  117 

Tarn.    O,  might  I  relate — 
But  I  bethink  me,  father,  of  a  thing 
Like  that  you  asked.     Sometimes,  when  I'm  alone, 
Just  ere  his  coming,  I  have  heard  a  sound, 
A  strange,  mysterious,  melancholy  sound, 
Like  music  in  the  air.     Anon,  he  enters. 

Mtth.    Ha !  is  this  oft  ? 

Tarn.    'Tis  not  unfrequent. 

Jfoth.    Only 
When  thou'rt  alone  ? 

Tarn.    I  have  not  heard  it,  else. 

Nath.    A  sound  like  what  ? 

Tarn.    Like  wild  sad  music,  father  ; 
More  moving  than  the  lute  or  viol  touched 
By  skilful  fingers.     Wailing  in  the  air 
It  seems  around  me,  and  withdraws  as  when 
One  looks  and  lingers  for  a  last  adieu. 

Nath.    Just  ere  he  enters  ?     . 

Tarn.    At  his  step  it  dies. 

Math.    Mark  me. — Thou  know'st  'tis  held  by  righteous 
men 

16 


118  HADAD.  Act  III. 

That  Heaven  intrusts  us  all  to  watching  Spirits,(5) 
Who  ward  us  from  the  Tempter. — This  I  deem 
Some  intimation  of  an  unseen  danger. 

Tarn.  But  whence? 

Nath.    Time  may  reveal :  meanwhile,  I  warn  thee, 
Trust  not  thyself  alone  with  Hadad. 

Tarn.    Father,— 

Nath.    I  lay  not  to  his  charge  ;  I  know,  in  sooth, 
Little  of  him,  (though  I  have  supplicated,) 
And  will  not  wound  thee  with  a  dark  suspicion. 
But  shun  the  peril  thou  art  warned  of,  shun 
What  looks  like  danger,  though  we  haply  err : 
Be  not  alone  with  him  I  charge  thee. 

Tarn.    Seer, 
I  will  avoid  it. 

Nath.    All  is  ominous  : 

The  Oracles  are  mute,  dreams  warn  no  more, 
Urim  and  Thummim  keep  their  glory  hid, 
My  days  are  dark,  my  nights  are  visionless, 
Jehovah  hath  forsaken,  or,  in  wrath, 
Resigned  us  for  a  season.     Times  like  these 


Scene  IF.  HAD  AD.  119 

Are  jubilee  in  Hell.     Fiends  walk  the  Earth/6) 
Misleading  princes,  tempting  poor  men's  pillows, 
Supplying  moody  hatred  with  the  dagger, 
Lust  with  occasions,  treason  with  excuses, 
Lifting  man's  heart,  like  the  rebellious  waves, 
Against  his  Maker.     Watch,  and  pray,  and  tremble  ; 
So  may  the  Highest  overshadow  thee  ! 

[Exit  Math.] 

Tarn.    His  awful  accents  freeze  my  blood. — Alas !  - 
How  desolate,  how  dark  my  prospect  lowers ! — 
Oh !  Hadad,  is  it  thus  those  sunny  days, 
Those  sweet  deceptive  hopes  must  terminate, 
When  mixing  in  thy  gentle  looks  I  saw 
Love  blend  with  reverence,  as  my  lips  described 
The  power,  the  patience,  purity,  and  faith 
Of  our  Almighty  Father?  Then,  I  thought 
Thy  spirit,  softened  by  its  earthly  passion, 
Meetly  refined,  and  tempered,  to  receive 
The  impression  of  a  love  which  never  dies. 
How  art  thou  changed !  All  tenderness  you  seemed, 
Gentle  and  social  as  a  playful  child  ; 


120  HADAD.  Act  III. 

But  now,  in  lofty  meditation  rapt, 

As  on  an  icy  mountain-top  thou  sit'st 

Lonely  and  unapproachable,  or  tossest 

Upon  the  surge  of  passion,  like  the  wreck 

Of  some  proud  Tyrian  in  the  stormy  sea.^- 

What  sounds  are  those  ! — A  tumult ! — 'Tis  the  cry 

And  rush  of  multitudes — Bagoas  !  Ho  ! — 

Enter  BAGOAS. 

What  noise  is  that  ? 

Bag.    'Tis  nothing,  Princess. 

Tarn.    Hark!— 

The  clamour  rises  ! — Shrieks,  and  frantic  voices ! 
Lead  to  the  balcony — 'tis  some  strange  chance. — 
Proceed,  I  say. 

Bag.    Most  honoured  Princess 

Tarn.    Ha!— 
Dar'st  thou  oppose  me  ? 

Bag.    Strict  commands  were  left 
Thou  shouldst  not  go  abroad,  nor  look  without, 
Until  my  lord's  return. 


Scene  V.  HADAD.  121 

Tarn,    (aside.)    What  can  this  mean  ? — 
My  father,  slave,  commanded  so  ? 

Bag.    Sternly ; 
With  threats  for  disobedience. 

Tarn.    'Tiswell: 
Begone,  and  shut  the  doors. — Begone  I  say. 

[Exit  Bag.} 
I'll  know  the  meaning  of  this  dreadful  outcry. 

[Exit  hastily  by  another  door.'] 
Enter  BAGOAS,  alarmed. 
Bag.    Gods  !  I  forgot  the  roof.    (  Pursues  her.) 


SCENE  V. 

The  roof  of  ABSALOM'S  house.     Enter  TAMAR,  hastening 
to  the  parapet. 

Tarn.  Good  heavens ! — what  dire  disaster ! — whence  this 

throng 

Of  frantic  women — children — ancient  men 
Tearing  their  beards  and  garments — Ha  !  the  Ark ! — 


122  HADAD.  Act  III. 

Abiathar  and  Zadok  weeping  by  it — 

The  Priests  and  Levites — Gracious  God !  some  foe 

Hath  sure  surprised  us  ! — Hear  me  ! — People ! — Friends ! 

Enter  BAGOAS. 

Bag.    (taking  hold  of  her.) 
Come,  lady 

Tarn.    Horror  !  there's  the  King — 
Barefoot — amidst  his  weeping  household — 

Bag.    No,  no — 

Tarn.  His  gray  head  bare — his  mantle  rent ! — O,  hear  me ! 
[Stretching  her  hands  to  the  people  below.] 
Look  up  ! — O,  answer  me  ! — My  father  David  ! — 

Bag.    (drawing  her  away.)    Cry  not,  but  listen 

Tarn,    (breaking  from  him,  rushes  to  the  parapet.) 
Ho  !  hear  me  ! — Levites  ! — Friends  ! — Will  no  one  answer  ? 

Bag.    I'll  answer,  lady  :  call  not  to  the  people. 

Tarn,    (wildly.) 
What  has  befallen  him  ? — wherefore's  the  tumult  ? 

Bag.    Your  grandsire  is  no  longer  King. 


Scene  V.  HAD  AD.  123 

Tarn    Alas ! 
Is  Zion  taken  ? 

Bag.    Not  by  foes. The  Prince 

Your  father  wears,  to-day,  the  Hebrew  crown. 

Tarn,    (thunderstruck.}    My  father ! 

Bag.    Surely  Princess ; — look  not  pale. 

Tarn,    (gasping  for  breath.)    My  father — my 

Bag.    By  all  the  gods  'tis  true — may  wrath  o'ertake  me 
If  I  deceive  you — crown'd  this  day  at  Hebron. 
What  say'st  ? thy  white  lips  move — 

Tarn,    (with  a  deep  groan.) 
Oh!  Absalom — Oh!  Absalom!    (Falls  senseless.) 


ACT  IV. 


SCENE  I.    The  top  of  Mount  Olivet,  crowded  with  fugitives 

from  Jerusalem :  KING  DAVID,  surrounded  by  his  household, 

worshipping  :  The  Cherethites  and  Pelethites*  restrain  the 

People  from  pressing  upon  him.    JOAB,  BENAIAH,  and  other 

armed  Chiefs,  marshalling  the  multitude. 

Ben.    Go  bid  yon  loiterers  hasten  over  Kedron, 
If  they  would  march  with  us. 

Joab.    Let  them  ahide  : — 
Why  crawl  they  after  us  ?— What  seest  thou,  ho  ? 


*  The  Cherethites  and  Pelethites,  or  the  Extirpators  and  the  Ex 
peditious,  were  the  King's  military  attendants,  and  the  immediate 
agents  of  his  will. 


Scene  I.  HADAD.  125 

[Addressing  a  Soldier  stationed  in  a  tree  above  him."\ 

Soldier.    Nothing,  my  lord,  but  people  from  the  city 
Hurrying  this  way. 

Joab.    Look  not  on  them,  fool :  fix 
Thine  eyes  upon  the  south. 

Soldier.    I  do,  my  lord. 

Joab.    What  seest  thou  toward  the  Prince's  pillar  ? 

Soldier.    Nothing. 

Joab.    On  that  same  open  height  beyond  it  ? 

Soldier.    Nothing. 

Joab.    Well,  nail  thine  eyes  there. — Will  the  old  man's 

prayer 

Stretch  out  till  doom  ?     Benaiah,  we  lose  time ; 
We  should  be  now  beyond  Bahurim. 

Ben.    Be  patient ; 

The  stroke  was  bitter,  and  his  heart  seemed  fraught 
Almost  to  bursting. 

Joab.    Better  rive  at  once, 
Than  meet  the  tender  mercies  of  his  son 
By  loitering  here.     By  heaven,  I'll  rouse  him — 

Ben.    Hold, 
Hold,  Joab! 

17 


126  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

People.    Stand  aside— Back  there— The  King ! 
[KiNG  DAVID  comes  forward  among  the  People :  Enter  HU 
SHAI,  with  his  garments  rent;  he  falls  to  the  ground,  and 

clasps  the  King* s  feet.] 

Hush.    God  save  my  lord  the  King !     Live  I  to  see 
My  master  thus !  the  Light,  the  Rock  of  Israel ! 

K.  Da-o.    Once,  Hushai,  once  the  candle  of  the  Lord 
Beamed  on  my  head,  and  like  a  shadowing  rock, 
His  buckler  sheltered  me.     Thou  seest  me,  now, 
Dark  and  defenceless  ;  all  my  leprous  sins 
Wrathfully  visited  upon  my  people. 

First  People.    What  will  become  of  us  ? 

Second  People.    Alas  !  alas ! 
Heaven  hath  forsaken  us ! 

Third  People.    Wo,  wo,  alas  ! 

Joab.    (going  among  them.) 

Peace  with  your  howling !  Peace  !  or  ye  shall  feast 
The  wild  beasts  of  the  wilderness. — My  lord, 
We  linger  here  while  death  is  at  our  heels. 

K.  Dav.    Hushai. 

Hush.    Command  thy  servant. 


Scene  I.  HADAD.  127 

K.  Dav.    Turn  thou  back : 

* 

Mix  with  his  council :  seem  as  they.     Thy  words 
May  blast  AhithophePs,  whose  malice,  else, 
Will  work  our  ruin  :  With  us  thou  canst  nought. — 
Abiathar  and  Zadok  stay  behind, 
By  my  commandment,  with  the  Ark  :  To  them 
Communicate  what  thou  canst  learn  of  import : 
They  will  despatch  it  to  me  by  their  sons, 
Where  I  shall  wait  them  in  the  wilderness. 

Joab.    Depart  ere  thou  art  seen. 

Hush.    God  guard  the  King, 
And  bring  him  home  to  Zion. 

K.  Dav.    May  it  please  Him  ! 

[Exit  Hushai.] 

Soldier,    (calling  from  the  tree.) 
Joab — my  lord — I  see  the  flash  of  arms 
On  that  same  hill : — The  vanguard  comes — and  now 
The  horsemen. — 

Joab.    Make  they  for  the  city  ? 

Soldier.    Straight. 

Joab.    Enough ;  descend. — Shall  we  advance? 


128  HAD  AD.  Act  IV. 

K.  Dav.    Is  there  conveyance  for  the  household  ? 

Joab.    None. 

People.    Yes,  Ziba's  here  with  asses. 

Second  People.    Only  two. 

Joab.    (impatiently.) 

Therefore,  my  lord,  behoves  us  haste  :  Suppose 
His  Horse  overtake  us  in  the  open  plain. 
Cumber'd  with  women  ? 

K.  Dav.    Bid  the  Pelethites 
Take  up  the  youngest.     Place  upon  the  beasts 
Michal  and  Bathsheba.     Send  forward  some 
For  mules  and  camels,  if  the  villages, 
Or  fields  can  yield  us  any. — Where's  the  Prophet  ? 

Joab.    Yonder,  with  Solomon. — Art  ready,  sir  ? 

K.  Dav.    Ittai,  protect  the  rearward.     Station  one 
To  bring  intelligence. Command  the  signal. 

Joab.    (to  his  trumpeter.)    Sound. 

[Trumpet  sounds :  exeunt  the  King,  and  People, 
guarded  by  the  armed  bands.] 


SCENE  II. 

The  palace  :  an  antechamber  of  the  council-hall :  Officers  of 
ABSALOM'S  guard,  attendants,  <^c.  in  waiting. 

First  Off.    Will  their  debate  ne'er  end  ? 

Second  Off.    No,  by  the  proverb, 
Never  :  when  gossip  graybeards  talk,  the  sun 
Stands  still. 

Enter  HAD  AD  from  the  hall. 

Had.    (to  one  of  the  attendants.) 

What,  is  she  come  yet  ? 

Mend.    No,  my  lord. 

Had.    (aside.)  This  is  Heaven's  spite  !- 
You  bore  the  signet  ? — saw  the  Princess  ? 

Mend.    Yes,  my  lord. 


130  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

Had.    Why  didst  thou  not  stay  by  her  when  thou  saw'st 
The  streets  in  tumult  ? 

Attend.    I  was  bid  depart. 

Had.  O  curse ! — (Turns  angrily  into  the  hall.) 

First  Off.    What  clouds  the  Syrian?    What's  amiss,   (to 

the  Attendant.) 
That  Hadad  bites  his  lip  with  such  a  frown  ? 

Attend.    The  Princess,  sir,  is  missing. 

Officers.    Missing  !  Ha  !  (They  gather  round  him.) 
But  how? 

Attend.    It  happened  thus.     Imploring  leave 
To  come  unto  her  father,  he  despatched 
Permission  by  his  signet  ;  but  she  came  not, 
Though  she  had  thrice  entreated  him  with  tears. 
It  since  appears,  refusing  all  attendance, 
Except  a  slave,  she  went  into  the  streets, 
And  has  not  since  been  heard  of. 

First  Off.    When  was  this? 

Attend.    About  the  hour  of  twilight. 

First  Off.    'Tis  dark  night :  (Looking  out.) 
The  city's  in  confusion  :  she  may  suffer 
Some  shameful  outrage. 


Scene  II.  HAD  AD.  131 

Attend.    That  is  feared  indeed  : 
Bagoas  raves,  and  tears  his  hair,  and  Hadad — 

Re-enter  HADAD. 

Had.    Brave  gallants  of  the  guard,  the  King  commands 
You  follow  me.     The  Princess  Tamar's  lost, 
This  riotous  night,  we  fear,  amidst  the  streets. 
Ride  six  of  you,  for  life,  to  every  gate, 
And  bid  them,  in  the  King's  name,  suffer  none 
Pass  outward  : — Scatter  through  the  streets  your  comrades  ; 
Pierce  sharply  through  the  people  ; — scan  the  crowds. — 
If  ye  espy  her,  send  me  instant  news 
To  Zion  gate  by  Gihon.     On  the  bridge 
'Twixt  the  two  cities  I  will  post  myself. 
Away !    [Exeunt  officers  of  the  Guard.] 

(To  one  of  the  attendants.) 

— Come  hither.     Know'st  thou  that  dark  alley 
Behind  the  Market-place  ? 

Attend.    I  do,  my  lord. 

Had.    Run  thither.     Near  a  lattice  thou  wilt  see 


132  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

A  low  dark  man,  in  a  Scribe's  gaberdine, 

Devoutly  searching  Moses,  by  a  lamp 

Nich'd  in  the  wall.     Say  Hadad's  treasure's  lost — 

The  Princess — lost  in  the  unruly  streets, 

And  spirited,  perhaps,  into  some  den 

Of  mischief.     Bid  him  search,  and  come  to  me 

Upon  the  western  bridge  o'er  Gihon.     Fly.    [Exit  Attend.'] 

Go  all : — disperse  yourselves  in  every  quarter  : — 

If  ye  hear  tidings,  bring  them  me. — Stay  thou, 

The  King's  forthcoming. — He  shall  be  enriched, 

Who  first  salutes  me  with  intelligence. 

[Exeunt.] 


SCENE  III. 

The  council-hall.  ABSALOM,  AHITHOPHEL,  MANASSES, 
MALCHIAH,  HUSHAI,  and  others,  in  debate :  AHITHOPHEL 
speaking. 

Ahith.    My  lord,  you  know  them  not — you  wear,  to-day. 
The  diadem,  and  hear  yourself  proclaimed 


Seme  HI.  HAD  AD.  333 

With  trump  and  timbrel  Israel's  joy,  and  deem 
Your  lasting  throne  established.     Canst  thou  bless, 
Or  blast,  like  Him  who  rent  the  waters,  clave 
The  rock,  whose  awful  clangour  shook  the  world 
When  Sinai  quaked  beneath  his  majesty  ? 
Yet  Jacob's  seed  forsook  this  thundering  Guide, 
Even  at  the  foot  of  the  astonished  mount ! — 
If  benefits  could  bind  them,  wherefore  flames 
The  Ammonitish  spoil  upon  thy  brows, 
While  David's  locks  are  naked  to  the  night  dew  ? 
Canst  thou  transcend  thy  father?  is  thy  arm 
Stronger  than  his  who  smote  from  sea  to  sea. 
And  girt  us  like  a  band  of  adamant  ? — 
Trust  not  their  faith.     Thy  father's  root  is  deep  : 
His  stock  will  bourgeon  with  a  single  sun  ; 
And  many  tears  will  flow  to  moisten  him. — 
Pursue,  this  night,  or  ruin  will  o'ertake  thee. 

Ab.    Whatsay'st  thou,  Hushai  ?  Speak  to  this,  once  more. 

Hush.    I  listen  to  my  lord  Ahithophel, 
As  to  a  heaven-instructed  oracle  ; 
But  what  he  urges  more  alarms  my  fears. 

IS 


134  HADAD.  Art  IV' 

Thou  seest,  O  King,  how  night  envelopes  us  : 

Amidst  its  perils,  whom  must  we  pursue  ? 

The  son  of  Jesse  is  a  man  of  war, 

Old  in  the  field,  hardened  to  danger,  skilled 

In  every  wile  and  stratagem  ;  the  night 

More  welcome  than  the  day.     Each  mountain  path 

He  treads  instinctive  as  the  ibex  ;  sleeps, 

Moistened  with  cold  dank  drippings  of  the  rock, 

As  underneath  the  canopy.     Some  den 

Will  be  his  bed  to-night.     No  hunter  knows 

Like  him,  the  caverns,  cliffs,  and  treacherous  passes  ; 

Familiar  to  his  feet,  in  former  days, 

As  'twixt  the  Court  and  Tabernacle !     What ! 

Know  ye  not  how  his  great  heart  swells  in  danger 

Like  the  old  lion's  from  his  lair  by  Jordan 

Rising  against  the  strong  ?    Beware  of  him  by  night, 

While  anger  chafes  him.     Never  hope 

Surprisal.     While  we  talk,  they  lurk  in  ambush, 

Expectant  of  their  prey  :  the  Cherethites, 

And  those  blood-thirsty  Gittites  crouch  around  him, 

Like  evening  wolves  :  fierce  Joab  darts  his  eyes, 


Scene  HI.  HAD  AD. 

Keen  as  the  leopard's,  out  into  the  night, 

And  curses  our  delay  ;  Abishai  raves  ; 

Benaiah,  Ittai,  and  the  Tachmonite, 

And  they,  the  mighty  three,  who  broke  the  host 

Of  the  Philistines,  and  from  Bethlehem  well 

Drew  water,  when  the  King  but  thirsted,  now, 

Raven  like  beasts  bereaved  of  their  young. — 

We  go  not  after  boys,  but  the  Gibborim, 

Whose  bloody  weapons  never  struck  but  triumphed. 

Malchi.  It  were  a  doubtful  quest. 

Hush.    Hear  me,  O  King. 
Go  not  to  night,  but  summon,  with  the  dawn, 
Israel's  ten  thousands  ;  mount  thy  conquering  car, 
Surrounded  by  innumerable  hosts, 
And  go,  their  strength,  their  glory,  and  their  King, 
Almighty  to  the  battle  ;  for  what  might 
Can  then  resist  thee  ?    Light  upon  this  handful, 
Like  dew  upon  the  earth  ;  or  if  they  bar 
Some  city's  gates  against  thee,  let  the  people 
Level  its  puny  ramparts,  stone  by  stone, 
And  cast  them  into  Jordan.     Thus,  my  lord 


136  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

May  bind  his  crown  with  wreaths  of  victory, 
And  owe  his  kingdom  to  no  second  arm. 

Ahith.    O  blindness  !  lunacy  ! 

Hush.    I  would  retire ; 
Ye  have  my  counsel. 

Ahith.    Would  thou  hadst  not  come, 
To  linger  out  with  thy  pernicious  talk 
The  hours  of  action. 

Hush.    Wise  Ahithophel, 
No  longer  I'll  offend  thee.     Please  the  King 


[ABSALOM  waves  him  to  resume,  his  seat.~] 
Ahith.    By  all  your  hopes,  my  lord,  of  life  and  glory, 
I  do  adjure  thee  shut  thine  ears  to  him ! 
His  counsel's  fatal,  if  not  treacherous. 
I  see  its  issue,  clearly  as  I  see 
The  badge  of  royalty, — not  long  to  sit 
Where  now  it  sparkles,  if  his  words  entice  thee.- — 
Never  was  prudence  in  my  tongue,  or  now. — 
Blanch'd  as  I  am,  weak,  withered,  winter-stricken, 
Grant  but  twelve  thousand  men,  and  I'll  go  forth. 
Weary,  weak-handed,  what  can  they,  if  taken, 
Now,  in  their  first  alarm  ? 


Seene  III.  HAD  AD.  137 

Ab.    Were  this  resolved, 
We  would  not  task  thy  age.     What  think  ye,  sirs  ? 

Manass.    My  lord,  the  risk  is  great :  a  night  assault 
Deprives  us  of  advantage  from  our  numhers, 
Which  in  the  open  field  ensure  success  ; 
And  news  of  a  disaster  blown  about, 
And  magnified,  just  now,  when  all  are  trembling, 
Might  lose  a  Tribe,  might  wound  us  fatally. 
Hushai's  advice  appears  most  prudent. 

Ahith.    Fate! 

Malchi.    I  think  so  too,  my  lord. 

Others.    And  I.     And  I. 

Ahith.    Undone ! 

Ab.    The  Council  are  agreed,  this  once, 
Against  you,  and  with  them  the  King  accords. 

Ahith.    (stretching  his  hands  toward  ABSALOM.) 
Against  thyself,  thy  throne,  thy  life,  thy  all ! 
Darkness  has  entered  thee,  confusion  waits  thee, 
Death  brandishes  his  dart  at  thee,  and  grins 
At  thy  brief  diadem  ! — Farewell !  Farewell ! — 
Remember  me  ! I'll  not  be  checked  and  rated, — 


138  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

Branded  with  treason — see  my  hoary  hairs 
Hooted  and  scoffed  at,  if  they're  spared,  indeed, 
For  such  indignity. Thou'lt  follow  soon.     [Exit.'] 

Ab.    Or  win  or  lose,  we  walk  not  by  thy  light. 

Malchi.    The  old  man's  strangely  moved. 

Manass.    His  fury  seemed 
Prophetical. 

Ab.  The  council  is  dissolved, 
Here  to  assemble  in  the  morning  early, 
To  order  for  our  absence.     Leave  us  now 
To  private  business. 

Counsellors.    Save  our  lord  the  King. 

[Exeunt.] 


SCENE  IV. 

The  bridge  over  Gihon  by  the  corner  of  Millo,  between  the 
upper  and  lower  city  :  illuminations  seen  on  the  housetops : 
sounds  of  nocturnal  riot  and  confusion  in  the  streets :  HA- 
DAD  walking  impatiently  backwards  and  forwards  on  the 
bridge. 

Had.    Where  can  they  loiter  ?    Should  some  ruffian  clasp 
Her  peerless  beauty — Ha !  what  cry  is  that  ? 

[Listens  anxiously  to  distant  shouts.'] 
Mouth' d  brutes.! — Or  live,  or  die  King  Absalom, 
I  care  not. — How  like  Hell's  epitome 
The  city  looks !  The  fires  of  jubilee 
Flash  bloodily  upon  the  gloomy  clouds 
That  hang,  as  charged  with  thunder,  over  it. 
The  crowds  upon  the  housetops  stare  about 


140  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

Like  new  come  ghosts.     In  every  guarded  tower 
Helms  gleam,  and  bristling  spears  ;  and  crested  forms 
Stalking  the  ramparts  in  the  lurid  light, 
Like  guardians  on  the  Infernal  battlements, 
Appear  gigantic.     But,  were  those  grim  confines 
Peopled — polluted — with  a  herd  like  these, 
These  Chosen  Children,  they  were  Hell  indeed  ! 
The  filth,  the  dregs  of  all  Jerusalem 
Float  in  the  streets.     Thieves,  beggars,  bravoes,  base 
Nethinims,  harlots,  tattered  prodigals, 
Flock  from  their  holes  to  shout  for  Absalom. 

Almost,  I  pity Hark !  a  rabblement 

Hoots  this  way.     Let  me  shun  their  drunken  madness. 

[Retires  into  the  shade  of  Millo  :  enter  a  crowd  from 
the  lower  city,  shouting.] 

First  Crowd.    Hurrah  for  Absalom !  King  Absalom ! 

Second  Crowd.    Down  with  the  Graybeard ! 

Third  Crowd.    Down  with  the  Giant-queller 

Fourth  Crowd.    Hold,  sirs — hold  while  I  chanl  a  canticle 
Indited  for  next  Feast  of  Tabernacles, 
On  that  same  doughty  feat. 


Seme  IF.  HAD  AD.  141 

Fifth  Crowd,    (drunk.)    A  murrain  take 
Your  canticles !    Cry,  Long  live  Absalom ! 

Fourth  Crowd.    Whom  have  we  there,  my  masters  ? — See 

ye  not  ? 

Bolt  upright  by  the  wall  ? — Rabbi,  who  art  thou  ? 
Emerge,  I  say  : — come  from  the  land  of  shadows  :- 
Art  thou  for  Absalom  ? 

Had.    Ay. 

Fifth  Crowd.    Then  come  forth. 

Had.    I'm  stationed  by  the  King. 

Crowd.    Molest  him  not ; 
He  says  he's  of  our  party. 

Fifth  Crowd.    Let  him  shout.    (Approaches  Hadad.) 
Uplift  thy  voice.     Wast  thou  born  dumb  ? 

Crowd.    Look !  look  ! 
What  throng  is  that  by  David's  Tower  ? 

Second  Crowd.    Hurrah !    (Rushes  up   toward  Zion :  all 
follow.) 

Had.    (resuming  his  station  on  the  bridge.) 
What  nightmare  sits  on  them !  They  might  have  groped 
The  Red  Sea  caves,  the  womb  of  Caucasus, 

19 


142  HAD  AD.  Act  IV. 

The  den  of  Hiddekel— Ha !  Maugrabin  ! 

[MAUGRABIN  looks  from  behind  an  angle  of  the. 

neighbouring  wall,  and  enters.] 
What  news  ?  hast  found  her  ?  ha  ? 

Maug.    No  track  of  her. 

Had.    Out,  Incubus ! 
Where  hast  thou  idled  ?  Darest  thou  torture  me  ? 

Maug.    By  Trismegistus  !  in  this  half  short  hour 
I've  borne  my  clay  so  sprightfully  about, 
That  eyes  which  saw  me  doubted  if  they  saw 
Substance,  or  shadow.     Every  den  of  blood, 
Cavern  of  booty,  loose  retreat  of  lust 
And  murder,  compassed  by  these  holy  walls, 
I've  entered,  searched,  and  sworn  by  Samael, 
That  if  they  touch  a  hair  of  her,  their  souls 
Shall  blaze,  this  night,  in  the  profoundest  Hell. 
Why  should  I  play  thee  false  ?  Grudge  I  the  morsel  ? 
Or  am  I  like  to  hide,  for  virtue's  sake, 
A  delicate  bird  of  David's  nest  from  thee, 
The  King  of  Fowlers  ? 

Had.   (continuing  a  moment  in  thought.)    Follow  me. 

[Exeunt.'] 


SCENE  V. 

The  court  of  the  Tabernacle  on  Mount  Zion,  lighted  by  afire 
upon  the  altar  of  burnt  offerings  :  the  interior  of  the  sanc 
tum  partially  visible  through  the  smoke  of  the  incense 
burning  there :  ZADOK  and  ABIATHAR  standing  by  the 
altar. 

Abi.    The  night  frowns  darkly,  and  may  burst  in  storm 
Before  our  sons  o'ertake  the  King.     How,  then, 
Cross  ruffled  Jordan  with  the  helpless  household  ? 

Zad.    Look  not  to  me  for  cheering.     Am  not  I 
Dark  as  thyself? 

Abi.    But  thou  didst  charge  the  youths 
So  straitly  to  pass  o'er. 

Zad.    So  Hushai  bade. 

Enter  TAMAR,  attended  by  two  ancient  Jews. 


144  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

Tarn.    O,  holy  Priests !  O,  blessed  Tabernacle ! 
Zadok — Abiathar — will  ye  protect  me  ? 

Zad.    (supporting  her.) 

Protect  thee,  Princess  ! — thou  art  with  sure  friends. 
Whence  comest  thou  ? 

Tarn.    I  know  not — Oh  !  I  know  not. 

Jew.    We  rescued  her  from  villains. 

Zad.    Merciful! 
What  measure  hath  this  dreadful  day  of  wrath  ! 

Jew.    We  met  her  in  a  dark  and  lonely  place, 
West  of  Damascus'  gate,  dragged  by  two  ruffians, 
Her  mouth  close  bound.     Perceiving  us  approach, 
They  snatched  the  caul  and  circlet  from  her  head, 
Tore  from  her  arms  and  neck  the  costly  gems, 
And  plunged  into  the  darkness. 

Zad.    Blest  be  He 

Whose  mercy  guided  you  ! — How  cam'st  thou  thus 
Exposed  ? — Know  ye  ?    (to  the  Jews.) 

Jew.    Hearing  the  Ark  returned, 
She  bent  her  steps  this  way,  to  seek  of  you 
Intelligence  and  comfort.     In  the  dusk 


Scene  V.  HADAD.  145 

And  crowded  streets,  losing  her  sole  attendant, 
And  borne  amidst  the  tumult,  she  was  seized 
By  those  same  wretches,  her  pretended  guides. 

Zad.    YeVe  saved  the  Princess  Tamar.     Let  me  know 
Your  worthy  names. 

Jew.    Barak  and  Mahlon,  kinsmen, 
Of  Omri's  house. 

Zad.    The  deed  shall  be  rewarded, 
If  righteousness  return.     But  leave  the  maid — 
We  watch  before  the  altar — safer  here, 
In  presence  of  the  Lord,  than  with  an  host.  ^ 

Tarn.    Yes,  leave  me,  leave  me,  friends. 

Jew.    Farewell !  may  prayers 
And  sacrifice  avert  the  threatened  judgments. 

[Exeunt  Jews.] 

Tarn.    O,  tell  me,  where  is  David  ? — I  beheld  him 
Barefoot  and  weeping — Or  was  that  a  dream  ? — 
Yourselves — the  Levites — weeping  round  the  Ark  ? 

Zad.    Ah !  that  it  were  a  dream  ! 

Tarn.    But  speak  to  me 
Plainly  of  things,  for  I  grow  wild.     I  ask, 


146  HABAD.  Act  IV. 

But  no  one  answers — Absalom  is  King 

They  cry— When  ?  How  ?— What  hath  befallen  us  ? 

Zad.    David  is  driven  forth. 

Tarn.    Where?  where? 

Abi.    We  know  not. 

Zad.    Nor  where,  nor  how  :  it  fell  upon  our  heads 
Like  sudden  thunder. 

Tarn.    Were  I  but  with  him  !— 

Ye  know  not  where  he  went  ?  Perhaps  they  followed — 
Have  murdered  him  ? — Assure  me — Doth  he  live  ? 

[The  Priests  whisper  together.] 
Enough  !  my  father  is  not ! 

Zad.    Hearken,  Princess, 
For  we  may  trust  thee.     David  lives.     He  fled 
Toward  Jordan,  promising  to  wait  for  tidings 
In  a  concerted  place — 

Tarn.    But  will  he  'scape  ? 

Zad.    If  he  pass  o'er  to  night ;  and  both  our  sons 
Are  sped  to  warn  him. 

Tarn.    Did  ye  urge  ? — implore  him  ? 

Jlbi.    We  counselled  him,  and  he  is  wise  of  heart. 


Scene  V.  HAD  AD.  147 

Zad.    Calm  your  perturbed  spirits  now  :  repose 
Upon  the  Lord.     His  promises  sustain 
Our  fainting  hopes :  His  sacred  presence  dwells 
Still  in  the  Sanctuary,  and  forbids 
Despair.     Yes,  when  the  Ark  resumed  its  place, 
The  Glory  settled  'twixt  the  Cherubim 
With  undiminished  lustre. 

Tarn.    Then,  there's  hope 

But  Oh  ! — my  guilty  father  ! — wo  alas !    (weeps  bitterly.) 

Zad.    Despair  not  :  join  with  us  in  supplications. 

Tarn.    Why  did  they  spare  me  !  Oh,  that  I  had  died 
When  death  was  near ! 

Zad.    Disparage  not  thy  rescuer ; 
Jehovah  hears  thee. — Kneel  for  his  offences, 
For  Israel's,  whose  portentous  sins  may  tempt 
A  retribution  terrible  and  final. 
Enter  the  Sanctuary,  and  uplift 
Thy  sorrowing  heart,  more  prevalent  than  incense. 

[They  lead  her  into  the  Tabernacle.] 


SCENE  VI. 

Without  the  vail  of  the  court :  HADAD  attended  by  several  of 
ABSALOM'S  guard:  MAUGRABIN,  at  a  little  distance  in  the 
gloom,  watching  them. 

Had.    I  saw  her  there  :  she  entered  with  the  Priests. 
Go  in,  and  say  the  King  commands  her  presence. 

[The  Guards  pass  into  the  court  of  the  Tabernacle  : 
HADAD  remains,  intently  looking  through  the  vail.] 
Lo  !  lo ! — the  bloody  shrine  of  sacrifice, — 
The  cherub-tissued  curtains, — the  seven  branches, 
Revealing  through  the  censer's  smothering  fume 

The  dim  magnificence ! Each  implement 

As  he  prescribed. These  must  be  symbols,  types 

Of  things  hereafter. 

Maug.    (muttering  to  himself.)  Tempt  him,  if  thou  wilt — 
Pry  in  his  secrets  till  devouring  fire 


Scene  VI.  HADAD.  149 

Break  out  upon  thee — Yea,  within  the  snuff 
Of  that  detested  incense ! — How  the  wreaths 
Begin  to  curl  about  him ! — I'll  not  risk 
Annihilation.    (Exit.) 

Had.  Wherefore  should  I  tremble  ? — 
Mortals  have  gazed  unblinded — Moses  saw 

The  lightning  of  his  glory  pass. But  I — 

How  could  I  front  the  terrible  array 

If  yonder  vail  should  part One  flash  might  end  me  ! 

What  holds  them  parleying  ?  This  abhorred  smoke 
Is  worse  than  Stygian — every  breath  I  draw 
Is  mortal  agony. — Leave  her  I  will  not 

In  custody  of  those  arch  hypocrites 

[Re-enter  Guards,  with  TAMAR,] 
Mean  ye  to  stay  eternity  ? 

First  Guard.    We  stayed  not. 

Had.    Peace! 

Second  Guard,    (aside  to  his  comrade.) 
Look  how  convulsed  and  pale  he  is  ; 
And  see,  his  breast  is  bloody. 

20 


150  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

Had.    (fiercely.)    Get  behind  me. 

[Throws  his  mantle  across  his  breast,  and  conducts 
TAMAR  out,  followed  by  the  rest :  she  neither 
speaks,  nor  regards  him.'] 


SCENE  VII. 

A  deep,  woody  glen  :  KING  DAVID'S  followers  scattered  in 
different  parts,  some  sleeping  on  the  ground,  others  station 
ed  zvith  their  arms  watching  :  The  royal  household  shelter 
ed  under  a  slight  tent  spread  beneath  a  tree  :  a  Jire  burning 
near  them:  ITTAI  and  BENAIAH  standing  together  in  dis 
course. 

lit.    It  moves  me  more  to  see  his  hoary  head 
Thus  bowed  and  bare,  to  read  his  grief-struck  eye, 
Than  were  his  corse  here  bleeding.     That's  an  end 
Of  good  and  evil.     All  his  faults  twice  summed, 
Deserve  not  this.     My  hardy  spearmen  wept, 
When  he,  the  second  time,  besought  me  turn, 
Nor  link  my  fortunes  to  a  fallen  Master. 


Scene  VIL  HAD  AD.  151 

Ben.    I  cannot  talk  these  things  :  I  know  the  King. 

Itt.    I,  too,  have  stood  by  him  in  sharp  extremes, 
But  never  did  his  nature  shine  to  me, 
So  like  the  furnaced  gold.     'Tis  strange,  Benaiah, 
The  canker  gnawing  at  his  inmost  heart, 
He  should  sustain  himself;  careful  for  us 
As  he  were  hosom-free.     The  Prophet  droops 
Almost  to  death.     Look  how  he  sits  beside 
The  fire  ;  his  large  eye  fixed,  like  one  distraught. 
Even  youthful  Solomon  essays  to  cheer  him. 

Ben.    He  was  God's  herald,  Ittai ;  but  the  Lord 
Communes  with  him  no  more.     'Tis  that  o'erwhelms  him. 
This  horrible  rebellion  came  unwarned. 
Besides,  his  reverend  years  are  all  unused 
To  these  rough  accidents. 

lit.    Outnumbers  he 
The  King  in  years  ? 

Ben.    I  know  not ;  but  the  King 
Shook  hands  with  toil  and  danger,  in  his  youth, 
And  never  parted.     Oft,  while  jealous  Saul 
Laid  snares  for  him,  we  harboured  in  these  wilds ; 


152  HADAD.  Jet  IV. 

Slept  under  branching  trees,  or  in  a  cave, 
Huddled  like  outlaws  round  the  blazing  brands. 
Partook  our  meal.     Reclined  among  us — 

I  see  him  now his  consecrated  locks 

Clustering  in  youthful  beauty,  and  his  lips 
Dispensing  grace  and  wisdom  not  unmeet 
For  mitred  Aaron  ;  sometimes  mixed  with  sounds 
Drawn  from  his  harp,  and  heard  in  desert  woods, 
From  one  so  young,  so  constant,  so  oppressed — 
It  touched  the  most  obdurate.     In  worst  want, 
His  gracious  speech,  and  modest-beaming  eye 
More  cheered  us  than  the  wine  cup. 

Enter  JOAB. 

Joab.    How  now,  sirs  ! 
No  tidings  yet,  and  past  the  second  watch. 

Itt.    Some  accident  hath  stayed  them,  or  the  rebels 
Waver  in  council. 

Joab.    God  confound  them  worse 
Than  gabbling  Babel !— Is  the  King  this  way  ? 


Scene  VII.  HADAD.  153 

Ben.    He  passed  among  the  trees  upon  the  left. 
Joab.    'Twere  well  to  wake  the  People  :  the  first  news 
May  reach  us  from  the  trumpet.     Should  a  blast 
Bellowing  among  these  gorges  rouse  them — Ho,  there  !-^— 

[Exit  on  the  left.} 

Ben.    No  fear :  four  scouts  on  speedy  dromedaries 
Watch  toward  Jerusalem,  who  will  apprize  us. 
But  see,  the  King  approaches,  as  in  thought. 

[They  remove  to  another  quarter."] 

Enter  KING  DAVID. 

K.  Dav.    5Tis  not  my  honour,  crown,  nor  life — nor  all 
That  may  oppress  me — scorn,  nor  poverty — 
Have  I  not  suffered  these,  yet  heen  at  peace  ? 
Tranquil  upon  a  bed  of  flint  ?  looked  up 
Sweetly  upon  thy  firmament,  when  nought 
But  the  resplendent  stars  were  over  me, 
Revolving  all  thy  wondrous  goodness,  power, 
And  promises,  till  brighter  heralds  spake 
Of  thee  in  the  rejoicing  east? — But  ah! 


154  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

Temptation  found  me — and  the  angry  Judge 
Hath  found  me  too !     I  slighted  thee,  my  King, 
My  Father,  and  thy  righteousness  returns 
The  insufferable  pang.     Thou  only  know'st, 
Thou  only  know'st — O,  spare  the  penitent ! 
Nor  yet  destroy  the  guilty  utterly  ; 
Humble,  but  not  destroy  my  erring  son  ! 

Enter  NATHAN  and  SOLOMON. 

Sol.    Look,  father,  how  the  Prophet  faints.     He  deems 
Us  quite  abandoned,  and  is  past  all  hope 
Ever  to  tread  the  holy  hill  again. 

K.  Dav.    Despair  not,  Seer.     Why  dost  thou  not  refresh 
Thy  weariness  with  food  ?  Thy  spirit  fails 
From  toil  and  hunger.     Feed,  and  thou'lt  revive. 

Nath.    O,  that  my  thirsty  soul  could  find,  once  more, 
The  fountains  that  refresh  from  His  right  hand! 

K.  Dav.    But  dost  thou  well  impatiently  to  grieve 
His  transient  hiding  ?  'Tis  not  thy  offence 
Whose  chastisement  is  on  us.     Thou  wilt  know 


Scene  VII.  HAD  AD.  155 

.lis  gracious  visitations,  hear  his  voice 

On  thy  instructed  bed,  and  wake  to  bless 

His  mercy,  with  the  sun ;  while  I,  perhaps, 

Am  slumbering  where  no  radiant  planet  beams 

To  cheer  the  chambers  where  his  presence  comes  not. 

Nath.    'Tis  all  a  gloomy  formless  void.     I  fear 
Even  for  the  Covenant.     His  word  must  stand ; 
Yet  he  hath  cast  the  sceptre  to  the  ground, 
And  left  that  Son  of  Wickedness  to  triumph/7) 
He  swore  should  not  afflict  thee.     Yea,  thy  throne 
Was  promised  lasting  as  the  days  of  Heaven, 
And  as  the  sun  before  him.     Where  is  it  ? — 
And  where  the  Chosen  People,  if  in  thee. 
And  thy  offence,  the  promise  fail  ? 

K.Dav.    Not  so. 

Behold  this  child,  whom  God  hath  ever  loved  ; 
Him  thou  shalt  nurture,  and  restore  to  Israel 
When  the  oppression's  past.     Adopt  him  now. 
And  if  I  perish,  Boy,  honour  and  love 
The  Prophet  as  thy  father :  he  will  teach 
The  paths  of  wisdom,  guide  thee  to  a  crown 


156  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

Whose  brightness  will  outlast  the  rock  of  Zion. 
— Dost  thou  attend  me  ? 

Sol.    O,  sir,  most  needfully.     But,  sure,  the  Lord 
Will  never  prosper  wicked  Absalom. 

K.  Dew.    How  that  may  be,  we  know  not,  but  be  sure 
His  gracious  promises,  almighty  works, 
His  oath  to  Abraham,  pact  with  Moses,  all 
His  patience,  testimonies,  chastisements, 
His  signs,  his  oracles,  his  graven  Law, 
The  trampled  Heathen,  the  triumphant  Ark, 
The  promised  Temple,  the  all-glorious  hope 
Of  Jacob's  bright  redeeming  Star — these,  these, 
Will  never  be  abortive,  though  my  staff 
Of  stewardship  be  broken,  and  my  eyes 
See  not  the  Lord's  salvation. 

Sol.    Father,  look! 
Ahimaaz  and  Jonathan  are  come. 

Enter  JOAB,  BENAIAH,  ITTAI,  and  other  Captains,  followed 
by  a  crowd  of  people,  with  AHIMAAZ  and  JONATHAN,  who 
prostrate  themselves  before  K.  DAVID. 


Scene  VII.  HAD  AD.  ,157 

Ahim. } 

V    God  save  the  King ! 
Jon.     } 

K.  Dav.    Declare  your  tidings. 

Ahim.    Would 

They  were  more  welcome  !  Absalom  controls 
The  city,  and  was  locked  in  deep  debate. 
When  we  departed,  whether  to  pursue. — 
The  council  differed. — Hushai  prays  the  King 
Cross  Jordan  speedily, — by  no  means  linger. 

K.  Dav.    'Twas  in  debate  you  say. 

Ahim.    Even  when  we  came  : 
Ahithophel  enjoining  on  the  Prince 
Instant  pursuit,  but  Hushai  for  delay. 

K.  Dav.    You  saw  not  Hushai  ? 

Ahim.  No,  my  lord  ;  we  staid 
Beside  Enrogel,  fearing  to  go  in  : 
My  father  sent  a  maid  to  us. 

K.  Dav.    When  left  ye? 

Jon.    About  the  dewfall. 

K.  Dav.    Wherefore  have  ye  tarried  ? 

Ahim.    We  were  pursued,  my  lord,  and  had  not  'scaped, 

21 


158  HADAD.  Act  IV. 

At  last,  but  for  a  woman  of  Bahurim, 
Who  hid  us  in  a  well. 

K.  Dav.    Captains,  ye  hear. — 
Joab — Benaiah- — order  for  the  march. 

[Exeunt  JOAB  and  BENAIAH.] 
What  further  of  the  city  ?  Shed  they  blood  ? 

Ahim.    We  heard  of  none. 

K.  Dav.    No  violence  committed  ? 

Jon.    None,  my  lord. 
His  partisans  possess  the  gates  and  walls 
With  warlike  semblance,  but  the  noise  within 
Resembled  riotous  mirth. 

K.  Dav.    No  outrage  then  ? 

Ahim.    None — on  the  people. 

K.  Dav.   How !  ye  falter.     Young  men, 
Keep  nothing  back,  I  charge  ye,  good  or  evil. 

Ahim.    Somewhat  more  proper  for  your  private  ear 
We  must  relate  then. 

K.  Dav.    (to  the  people.)    Go;  prepare  ye  all 
To  march. — Come  this  way,  good  Ahimaaz. 

[Exeunt.] 


ACT  V. 


SCENE  I.  MAHANAIM,  near  the  principal  gate  of  the  city. 
The  People  collected :  supplies  of  all  kinds  entering.  King 
DAVID  standing  among  his  Captains  upon  the  wall,  by  the, 
ascent  of  the  gate. 

First  Citizen.    But  will  the  battle  be  to-day  ? 

Second  Cit.    You  see, 

The  Captains  are  arrayed  in  proof  5  the  bands 
In  readiness,  awaiting  but  the  King. 

First  Cit.    Where  lies  the  foe  ? 

Second  Cit.    Hard  by  the  wood  of  Ephraim.(8> 

Enter  an  Old  Man. 


160  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Old  Man.    Direct  mine  eyes — where  is  he  ?  which  is  he  ? 

Third  Cit.    Whom  seek'st  thou  ? 

Old  Man.    The  Anointed— the  Sweet  Singer. 

Third  Cit.    The  King  ?  Behold  him  yonder,  on  the  wall, 
Midst  the  Gibborim. — Seest  thou  not  ? — there,  father, 
Him  in  the  robe. 

Old  Man.    Is  that  the  King  ?— Oh,  heavens  ! 

First  Cit.    Why  dost  thou  weep  ? 

Old  Man.    How  matted  all  his  beard  ! — 
Ah !  how  neglected ! — how  his  reverend  locks 
Are  scattered  ! — Heavens  !  is  this  the  man  who  shone 
Even  as  an  Angel  of  the  Lord  ? — How  changed 
Since  I  beheld  him  by  the  Tabernacle  ! 

Second  Cit.  He  hath  not  trimmed  his  beard,  nor  changed 

his  raiment, 
Nor  slept,  since  he  forsook  Jerusalem. 

Old.  Man.    Are  those  the  Captains  ? — What  helm'd  chief 

is  that, 
Whose  face  is  as  the  ravening  eagle's  beak  ? 

Second  Cit.    'Tis  Joab. 

Old.  Man.    Blest  be  Joab  !  hearts  of  flint. 
And  hands  of  steel,  are  needful  now. 


Scene!.  HAD  AD.  161 

Second  Cit.    See,  see  ! 

[KiNG  DAVID  and  the  Captains  descend  into  the  gate  : 
The  People  press  nearer.] 

K.  Dav.    Bring  forth  my  harness. — Joab  and  Abishai. 
Lead  ye  the  vanguard  by  the  southern  gate, 
And  wait  me  in  the  plain. — My  spear  and  harness ! 

People,    (many  voices.)    O,  go  not  forth,  my  lord — O,  go 
not — Go  not ! 

Joab.    If  I  might  speak  ? 

K.  Dav.    Say  on. 

Joab.  Thou  know'st  the  time 
Is  perilous,  and  we  can  jeopard  nothing. 
Behold,  my  lord, — this  city's  strong  for  siege, 
High-towered,  and  watered,  plentiful  in  corn 
Poured  in  by  Gilead,  provender,  and  kine. 
Let  us  thy  servants  strike  the  battle  now, 
And  if  we  fail,  my  lord  shall  succour  us 
From  out  the  city,  or  receive  us  here 
Where  we  can  baffle  them.     But  if  my  lord 
The  King  go  forth  and  meet  mischance  to-day, 
What  hope  is  left  us  ? 


162  HADAD.  Act  V. 

People,    (crying  tumultuously.)    No,  no,  no. — The  King 
Shall  not  go  forth — No  matter  if  we  perish — 
Ten  thousand  of  us,  to  the  King,  is  nought — 
They  care  not  for  us — If  the  King  he  slain, 
Israel  is  lost — My  lord  shall  not  go  forth — 

Joab.    You  hear  the  People. 

Itt.    All  thy  servants  pray. 

K.  Dav.    Well,  what  ye  think  is  best,  be  done. 

Joab.  (unsheathing  his  szvord.)    Advance 
The  banner. 

K.  Dav.    Hear  me,  Joab — Ittai,  hear — 
Ye  sons  of  Zeruiah,  mark  my  charge 
In  presence  of  the  People ! — For  my  sake, 
Deal  gently  with  him — even  Absalom — 
Touch  not  his  life — What !  is  he  not  my  blood  ? 

Joab.    God  save  the  King  ! — Abishai  pass  thou  south  ; 
I  issue  by  this  portal. 

K.Dav.    Ittai. 

lit.    My  lord. 

[They  retire  from  the  hearing  of  the  People.'] 

K.  Dav.    (after  a  moment's  pause.] 
Thou  hast  a  son  ? 


Seme  I.  HAD  AD.  163 

lit.    Two  valiant  sons,  my  lord. 

K.  Dav.  Fear'st  thou  the  living  God  ? 

lit.    Thy  servant  doth. 

K.  Dav.  Thou  know'st,  then,  what  it  were  to  lose  thy  son — 

O,  think  on  this If  he  he  taken  captive, — 

And  he  is  ever  in  the  press  of  combat, 
Known  by  his  deeds  and  stature, — shield  his  life 
From  their  wild  fury.     You  perceive  their  minds 
Are  greatly  edged,  and  all  will  aim  at  him. — 
1  would  yield  crown  and  life,  ere  see  my  son 
Hurried  to  his  award — Dire,  dire  for  him 
Is  this  arbitrement — 

Itt.   Wet  not  your  cheeks, 
My  gracious  lord,  it  doth  unman  my  heart, 
Which  I  would  wear,  to-day,  like  my  habergeon. 

K.  Dav.    Then  swear  to  me. 

Itt.    I  swear. 

K.  Dav.    Enough,  enough. 

[The  King  resumes  his  station  in  the  gate  :  The  squad 
rons  pass  out  before  him.~\ 


SCENE  II. 

The   tent  of  ABSALOM  :  ABSALOM,  armed  except  his  helmet, 
and  HAD  AD. 

Ab.    Methought  I  stood  again,  at  dead  of  night, 
In  that  rich  sepulchre,  viewing,  alone, 
The  wonders  of  the  place.     My  wandering  eyes 
Resting  upon  the  costly  sarcophage 
Reared  in  the  midst,  I  saw  therein  a  form 
Like  David  ;  not  as  he  appears,  hut  young, 
And  ruddy.     In  his  lovely-tinctured  cheek 
The  vermil  blood  looked  pure  and  fresh  as  life 
In  gentle  slumber.     On  his  blooming  brow 
Was  bound  the  diadem.     But,  while  I  gazed, 
The  phantasm  vanished,  and  my  father  lay  there. 
As  he  is  now,  his  head  and  beard  in  silver, 
Sealed  with  the  pale  fixed  impress  of  the  tomb. 


Scene  //.  HADAD.  165 

I  knelt,  and  wept.     But  when  I  thought  to  kiss 
My  tears  from  off  his  reverend  cheek,  a  voice 
Cried,  Impious !  hold ! — and  suddenly  there  stood 
A  dreadful  and  refulgent  form  before  me, 
Bearing  the  Tables  of  the  Law. 
Had.     Rare  phantoms ! 

Ab.    It  spake  not,  moved  not,  but  still  sternly  pointed 
To  one  command,  which  shone  so  fiercely  bright 
It  seared  mine  eyeballs.     Presently,  I  seemed 
Transported  to  the  desolate  wild  shore 
Of  Asphaltites,  night,  and  storm,  and  fire. 
Astounding  me  with  horror.     All  alone 
I  wandered  ;  but  where'er  I  turned  my  eyes, 
On  the  bleak  rocks,  or  pitchy  clouds,  or  closed  them, 
Flamed  that  command. 

Had.    How  o'erwrought  fancy  coins ! 
Ab.    Then  suddenly  I  sunk  down,  down,  methought, 
Ten  thousand  thousand  cubits  to  a  wide 
And  travelled  way,  walled  to  the  firmament 
On  either  side,  and  filled  with  hurrying  nations  ; 

Hurrying  they  seemed,  or  hurried  by  some  spell, 

22 


166  HADAD.  Aci  V. 

Toward  a  portentous  adamantine  gate 

Towering  before  us  to  the  empyrean. 

Beside  it  Abraham  sat,  in  reverend  years 

And  gracious  majesty,  snatching  his  Seed 

From  its  devouring  jaws.     When  I  approached, 

He  groaned  forth,  Parricide!  and  stretched  no  aid — 

To  me  alone,  of  all  his  Children.     Then, 

What  flames,  what  howling  fiery  billows  caught  me, 

Like  the  red  ocean  of  consuming  cities, 

And  shapes  most  horrid  ;  all,  methought,  in  crowns 

Scorching  as  molten  brass,  and  every  eye 

Bloodshot  with  agony,  yet  none  had  power 

To  tear  them  off.     With  frantic  yells  of  joy, 

They  crowned  me  too,  and  with  the  pang,  I  woke. 

Had.    'Twas  time,  indeed.     But  this  is  empty  nothing, 

And  should  not  shake  a  constant  mind. 
Ab.    Not  shake 

From  its  determined  purpose  ;  but  may  move 

Affection,  memory,  with  images 

Of  things,  loved,  mourned,  or  feared.    That  heart,  methinks, 

Were  of  strange  mould  which  kept  no  cherished  print 


Scene"//.  HADAD.  167 

Of  earlier,  happier  times,  when  life  was  fresh, 
And  love  and  innocence  made  holy-day 
Within  the  hosom,  destined  soon  to  know 
The  jar  of  sterner  inmates ;  or,  that  owned 
No  transient  sadness,  when  a  dream,  or  glimpse 
Of  fancy  touched  past  joys. 

Had.    I  held  your  soul 
Fixed  with  a  gaze  too  steadfast  on  the  sun 
Of  glory,  e'er  to  cast  such  looks  behind. 

Ab.    And,  Hadad,  I  had  thought  it  strange  in  thee, 
But  that  thou  never  knew'st  a  parent's  love, 
To  hold  so  lightly  what  has  cost  me  more 
To  quell,  than  all  I  can  confront  in  arms. 
Were  I  unmoved  by  such  exhaustless  bounty, 
Heaped,  loaded  on  me,  since  my  earliest  thought, 
Till  traitors  poisoned  him,  I  were  a  Fiend. 

Enter  an  Officer  of  the  Guard. 

Off.     My  lord,  the  scouts  bring  tidings  of  the  foe, 
Skirting  the  left  hand  wood. 


168  HADAB.  del  V. 

Jib.     What  form  of  march, 
What  numbers  show  they,  sir  ? 

Off.    Three  squadrons  come. — 
Joab,  Benaiah,  and  the  Cherethites, 
Known  by  their  scarlet  plumage,  make  the  vaward, 
Beneath  the  royal  banner  :  In  the  next, 
The  white  scarfs  of  the  Gittite  troop  appear  : 
The  third  was  too  remote  for  ken. 

M.    What  numbers  ? 

Off.    Some  third,  or  fourth  of  ours,  my  lord. 

Ab.    So  bold? 

Yet  that  I  looked  for  ;  well  I  know  their  temper. 
Saw  they — the  King  my  father  ? 

Off.    No,  my  lord, 
No  port  that  did  resemble  him. 

Ab.    'Tiswell: 

Command  my  chariot  to  the  tent :  Go,  bid 
The  Captain  be  at  his  pavilion  straightway.    (Exit  Off.) 
This  stern  defiance  arms  my  soul  again. 
So  David  front  me  not,  these  carrion  birds,       ',  . 
So  fond  to  gorge,  and  baited  to  the  carnage, 


Scene  II.  HADAD.  169 

Shall  taste  their  fill,  to-day,  by  Astaroth! 
Now  for  my  daughter — Tamar  !  ho ! 

[Partly  withdrawing  the  inner  curtain  of  the  tent.] 

Enter  TAMAR. 

— My  child. 

Since  thou  wouldst  follow,  I  have  ordered  thus. — 
The  battle  being  near — 

Tarn.    O !  say  not  so — 

Ab.    Peace!  hear  me. 

Tarn.    Father !  father !  on  my  knees 
I  do  conjure  thee — 

Ab.    (sternly.)    Tamar ! 

Tarn.    By  the  love 

You  bear  me !  by  my  grandsire's  age  !  by  all 
Heaven's  fearful  threatenings — 

Ab.    Hush  !  no  more  of  this  ! 
Know'st  thou  thy  father? — Hope  as  soon  to  quail 
My  rushing  war-steeds.     What!  when  trumpets  sound, 


170  HADAD.  Act  V. 

And  banners  flout  the  sky !  Name  it  no  more  ; 

But  hear  me.     Twelve  brave  horsemen  of  the.  guard 

Will  he  your  escort,  with  our  trusty  Kinsman. 

Two  dromedaries  of  the  fleetest,  girt 

For  thee  and  Hadad,  if  the  day  go  hard, 

Will  bear  ye  from  the  danger. — Mark  me,  Prince ; 

Keep  well  aloof ;  come  not  too  near  the  turmoil ; 

Move  with  the  battle  ;  make  the  wood  your  skreen. 

If  we  speed  well,  I'll  meet  ye  here  ;  if  not, 

Stint  not  your  riding,  heed  not  food  nor  rest 

Till  Talmai's  palace  shelter  her. — Beware  ! 

Nor  swerve  a  tittle  ! — And  I  charge  thee,  Hadad, 

Be  not  o'er  curious  to  inspect  the  strife ; 

Thou  canst  not  aid  it ;  and  the  trust  thou  hast 

Is  more  to  me  than  victory. 

Had.    My  lord, 

I  yield  to  strong  necessity,  or  else, 
Nothing  should  sever  me  from  thee  to-day. 

Ab.  We  need  thee  not. — Farewell,  my  daughter.  (Kisses 
her.)    Go; 


Scene///.  HADAD.  171 

Make  ready  for  the  saddle. — Ride  with  me 
Along  the  files,  then,  Hadad,  to  thy  charge. 

[TAMAR  receives  her  fathers  salute  weeping,   and 
retires.     AB.  and  HAD.  go  out  together.] 


SCENE  III. 

The  forest  of  Ephraim :  the  tents  of  a  company  of  Ishmael- 
ites  :  women  seen  under  the  trees  :  ADAH  singing  by  a  tent 
door. 

Ad.          Greenly  flourish,  fragrant  Mountain  ! 
Ishmael's  free-born  offspring  know 
Every  shade  and  gushing  fountain, 
Where  thy  precious  spices  grow. 

Laden  with  the  odorous  tribute, 
When  the  gums  have  ceased  tp  fall, 

Perfumes  for  the  Priestly  censer, 
Sweets  for  Memphis'  regal  hall, 


172  HADAD.  Act  V. 

First  we  greet,  on  .Zion's  summit, 

Haughty  Judah's  lion  King, 
Then  to  Nile's  expecting  borders 

Gilead's  rifled  treasures  bring. 

What,  though  whirlwinds  sweep  our  deserts, 
Sands  and  death-clouds  stalk  the  air  ? 

Bloody  treason  never  frights  us, 
Royal  mandates  slay  not  there. 

We  no  King,  no  Master  worship  ; 

Hagar's  God  alone  on  high  : 
He  the  tameless  spirit  gave  us, 

Spread  the  desert,  hung  the  sky— 

Ha !  Kedar,  wherefore  in  such  haste  ? 

Enter  a  young  Ishmaelite. 

Red.    O,Adah! 

The  plain  is  full  of  warriors  :  two  great  hosts 
Are  rushing  to  the  battle. 

Ad.    Heavens!  to  battle! 


Seem  HI.  HADAD.  173 

Enter  SARAH,  from  the  tent. 

Sar.    What's  that? 

Ked.    Sarah,  two  armies  are  in  conflict  5 
Covering  the  plain  with  horses,  arms,  and  ensigns. 
Why,  heard  ye  not  the  trumpets  ? 

Women,    (collecting  about  them.)    No—No — No. 

Sar.    But  where  ? 

Ked.    West  of  the  wood.     While  at  the  spring 
Filling  our  water-skins,  we  heard  a  blast, 
And  trampling  hollow  sounds  that  shook  the  earth, 
And,  pushing  to  the  forest  edge,  we  saw 
Squadrons  approaching  'gainst  a  mighty  host 
Camp'd  in  the  plain,  a  countless  multitude. 
O,  Adah,  such  a  glorious  sight !  shields  flashed, 
Spears  shook,  and  arrows  flew  ! 

Sar.    But  who  are  they  ? 

Ked.    We  know  not ;  but  Abimilech  declared 
The  battle  promised  blood.     He  says  the  spoil 
Will  more  enrich  us  than  our  spices,  more 
Than  thrice  our  annual  journey  into  Gilead. 

23 


174,  HADAD.  Aet  V. 

Dumah  is  with  the  camels  ;  all  the  rest 
Are  watching  to  despoil  the  slain.     I  came, 
Lest  ye  should  fear  mischance. 

Ad.    Alas!  alas! 

Ked.    O,  could  you  see  how  dazzling  bright  their  arms, 
How  square  and  firm  they  move,  flashing  the  sun 
Back  from  the  brazen  ridges, — and  behold 
The  warrior  in  the  car  majestic  rule 
His  bounding  steeds,  white  as  the  noon-day  cloud ! 

Enter  TAMAR,  pale,  and  leaning  wpon  HADAD,  followed  by  two 
of  the  Guard. 

Had.    We  crave  your  hospitality,  good  people ; 
This  lady's  faint,  and  cannot  keep  the  saddle. 
Grant  her  the  shelter  of  your  tent  awhile. 

Sar.    Enter  in  peace. 

Ad.    Sweet  lady,  let  me  aid  thee. 

[ADAH  conducts  TAMAR  into  the  tent.'] 

Sar.    Belike  she's  frighted  ?  Heard  ye  of  the  battle? 

Had.    We  have. 


SceneUL  HADAD.  175 

Sar.    Know  ye  what  hosts  they  be? 

Had.    'Tis  Israel. 

Sar.    Whom  strive  they  with,  my  lord  ? 

Had.    Their  ancient,  cruel, 
Invet'rate,  and  indomitable  foe, 
Each  other. 

Sar.    Holy  God! 

Had.    (to  the  Guard.)    Keep  all  together.     Are  your 
comrades  near  ? 

Guard.    Stationed  behind  the  tents,  my  lord. 

Had.    'Tis  well: 

Be  ready  to  mount  instantly ;  and  hark, 
I  have  a  word  for  all  of  ye. 

[HAD.  and  Guard  disappear  behind  the  tents.'] 

Sar.    Isaac  with  Isaac  hosts,  and  Ishmael  reaps 
The  bloody  spoil !  Thus  Heaven's  decrees — 

Enter  ADAH. 

Ad.    O,  mother! 
Never  did  I  behold  such  beauty !  sure, 


176  HADAD.  Act  V. 

She  must  be  some  born  Princess,  all  her  vest 
Is  twined  with  gold,  and  every  loop 
Is  fastened  with  a  gem.     But  Oh !  such  grief, 
Such  sighs,  it  wrings  my  heart ! 

Women.    Who  can  she  be  ? 

Ad.    Her  girdle,  sandals,  bracelets,  glistering  hood 
Of  checklaton,  are  wondrous ;  and  a  cord 
Of  rarest  rubies  twice  engirds  her  neck, 
And  falls  betwixt  her  bosom  white  as  wool. 
But  O,  her  lovely  face  was  never  peer'd. 
She  looks,  methinks,  as  Pharaoh's  daughter  did, 
When  we  beheld  her  pleasuring  on  the  Nile. 

Sar.    Here  comes  the  stranger  : — noble  too. 

M.    Question  him,  mother  dear  : — ask  who  they  are, 
And  what  hath  chanced  to  them  ;  'tis,  sure.,  some  sad. 
Sad  accident. 

Enter  HADAD. 

Sar.    How  can  we  serve  my  lord, 
Or  yon  fair  lady? 


Scene  III.  HAD  AD.  177 

Had.    Let  us  rest  a  space. 

Sar.    Yea,  but  she  droops,  my  lord.     I  would  we  might 
Administer  :  her  tears  and  beauty  touch 
My  daughter  nearly. 

Ad.    Ah !  might  not  some  comfort — 

Had.    Nothing:  intrude  not  on  her. 

Sar.    If  we  knew 

Her  ailment,  doubt  not  we  could  balm  it,  sir  : 
Adah  has  soothed  a  wilder  mood,  believe  me. 

Had.    Her  friends  are  in  the  battle.     Trouble  not 
Anxiety  ye  cannot  tranquillize. 

Sar.    Her  friends  may  conquer  :  Why  doth  she  despair  ? 

Had.    They  may,  they  must.     But  leave  her,  dame. 

Kedar.    Here's  Dumah. 

Enter  an  Ishmaelite. 

Sar.    What  of  the  battle,  Dumah  ?  heard  ye  aught  ? 
Dum.    I  durst  not  leave  the  camels  long  ;  but  ere 
I  came,  I  ran  and  looked,  just  looked. 
Had.   Whatsaw'stthou? 


178  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Dum.    Host  mixed  with  host  confused. 
The  flash  and  shock  of  arms,  shouts,  groans,  and  peals 
Of  shrilling  trumpets,  and  a  dreadful  car 
Hurled  by  two  steeds  fiercer  than  unicorns — 

Had.    Who  yielded? 

Dum.    None ; 
But  many  fell. 

Had.    Know  you Would  I  could  cast 

A  glance  there !  [TAMAR  appears  at  the  door  of  the  tent.'} 
Ha !  what,  my  love  ? 

Tarn.    What  tidings? 

Had.    Nothing  decisive.     Thou  shalt  hear  the  first. 
Go  in,  sweet : — calm  your  agitated  spirits. 

Tarn.     Ah  !  Hadad,  thou  mightst  have  prevented  this. 

Had.    Nay,  have  I  not  assured  thee  how  I  strove, 
Entreated,  kneeled  to  shake  your  father's  purpose  ? — 
His  will  is  moveless  as  the  world's  fixed  centre. 

Tarn.    Had  I  but  known  it ! — Now,  it  matters  not 
Who  wins  or  loses. 

Had.    Could  I  play  the  traitor  ? 
Betray  his  secrets  ? — That  had  sundered  us 


Scene  III.  HADAD.  179 

For  ever,  blasted  all  my  hopes  in  thee. — 

Go  in,  love  ;  thou  shalt  know  whate'er  betides. 

[TAMAR  retires.'] 
How  long  since  you  beheld  the  field  ? 

Dum.     Why,  sir, 
I've  laded,  and  led  home  the  camels  since. 

Enter  two  Ishmaelites,  with  spoils. 

Had.    This  looks  of  fresher  die.     Where  got  ye  these  ? 

First  Ish.    From  those  who  did  not  say  us  nay. 

Had.    Rings,  daggers, 

Girdles. — Or  friends'  or  foes',  they  speak  one  tongue, 
And  bear  the  Hebrew  image. — Take  them  hence — 
Bring  them  not  near  this  tent. — How  goes  the  field  ? 

First  Ish.    The  storm  drives  south. 

Had.    Ha!  south? 

Second  Ish.    We  gathered  these 
Where  the  first  blows  were  struck. 

Had.    Saw  ye  a  chariot  ? 

First  Ish.   The  conflict  there,  is  like  the  desert  whirlwind. 


180  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Darts,  arrow-flights,  and  clashing  eager  spears, 
And  desperate  combatants  are  huddled  there. — 
The  dust-wreaths  fly. — The  ramping  chargers  foam 
Like  yesty  waters  :  whizzing  javelins  glance 
From  their  broad  frontlets  and  brass  poitrels,  like 
Hail  from  a  rock.     Their  master's  buckler  takes 
A  tempest. 

Had.   So ! The  battle  pushes  south  ? 

First  Ish.    We  won 

These  spoils  where  it  first  closed,  and  now  it  rages 
Further  toward  Succoth,  all  between  thick  strown 
With  carcasses.     All's  broken  and  confused. 
But,  scattered  through  the  field,  you  may  espy, 
Far  in  the  hostile  ranks,  the  scarlet  crests 
Of  some  who  know  their  weapons  well,  and  clear 
A  bloody  space  around  them. — Tema !  ha  ! 

Enter  third  Ishmaelite,  with  booty. 

How  goes  the  strife  ? 

Third  Ish.    We  left  it  at  the  direst. 


Scene  III.  HADAD.  181 

First  Isk.     How  fares  the  car  ? 

Third  Ish.     The  horses  plunge  and  madden, 
But  cannot  stir  the  wheels,  fast  wedged  by  dead 
And  living.     Round  them  fights  a  furious  ring, 
Like  reckless  lions.     All  their  silver  manes, 
And  arch'd  necks,  when  they  rear,  show  bloody  red. 

Fourth  Ish.     (entering  while  the  last  speaks.) 
They're  prostrate — dead,  I  think — I  saw  them  fall. 

Had.     What  of  their  lord  ? 

Fourth  Ish.     O'er  his  fallen  steeds  he  combats  : 
His  sword  sweeps  circles  that  the  hardiest  shun. 

Had.    He  cannot  'scape  then  ? — Can  he  'scape  ? 

Fourth  Ish.    For  thrice 
The  car,  I  would  not  stand  in  it. 

Third  Ish.    'Tis  o'er  ere  this  :  we  came  about,  for  fear 
Of  skirmishers  that  struggled  in  the  wood. 

Had.    (walking  aside.) 

'Tis  odds  he's  slain — I  know  the  grim-faced  crew 
That  bay  him — the  Gibborim — dogs  of  blood, 

The  war-leviathans 1  must  bethink  me. — 

What's  to  be  done  ? — I'll  rid  me  of  those  fellows — 

24 


182  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Alone  with  her,  I  may  persuade  : — If  not 

I  have  her — and  can  curb  her — One  thing's  fixed : 
I  part  with  her  no  more.     My  work  is  done. 
These  feet  ne'er  tread  Jerusalem  again : — 
I've  groaned,  and  burned,  and  suffered.     Now's  the  meed. 
If  our  arch  foe  recover,  is't  my  fault? 
Have  I  not  laboured  ?  hurled  the  brand  of  Hell 
Into  his  bosom  ? — Come  what  may,  I'll  trust 
No  after  time  with  joys  within  my  grasp. 
Fourth  Ish.    Lo,  lo,  the  Captain  ;  here's  Abimilech. 

Enter  ABIMILECH,  and  several  Ishmaelites,  with  a  quantity  of 
rich  spoiL 

Abim.    (perceiving  Hadad.)    Whom  have  we  here  ? 

Third  Ish.    We  found  him  when  we  came, 
Inquiring  of  the  battle. 

Adah,    (running  to  Abimilech.)  Welcome,  father. 

Abim.    What  stranger's  that  ? 

Ad.    O,  father,  he  hath  brought 
The  sweetest  lady  ever  lifted  lid. 
She's  in  our  tent. 


Scene  III.  HAD  AD.  !S3 

Had.    (saluting  Abim.)    Peace. 

Abim.    Peace. 

Had.    I  prithee,  sir, 
How  fortunes  now  the  field  ? 

Abim.    The  slaughter's  rife. 

Had.    But  is  the  battle  lost? 

Abim.    Flight,  conflict,  carnage 
Cover  the  champaign  and  the  southern  wood  j 
More  north,  loose  bands,  and  straggling  warriors  stab, 
And  wrestle  in  the  thickets,  brakes,  and  marshes, 
With  direst  hatred.     Never  saw  I  wrath 
So  fell,  or  followed. 

Had.    Heard  ye  of  the  Chief 
Who  fought  from  out  a  chariot  with  white  steeds  ? 

Abim.    He's  finished. 

Had.    Ha !  how  know'st  thou  that  ? 

Abim.    I  saw  him  lifeless. 

Had.    Art  thou  sure  ? 

Abim.    If  to  be  bored  with  three  tough  darts  be  sure. 

Had.   Beseech  ye,  come  this  way  :  some  friends  are  near, 
To  whom  the  news  were  murderous. — Then  he  'scaped  not? 


164  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Abim.    He  fled  upon  a  mule,  and  disappeared, 
And  had  escaped  I  thought,  though  hotly  followed, 
Taking  the  wood  when  met  upon  the  plain. 
But  as  I  crossed  the  forest  far  within, 
A  trumpet  roused  me.     Hearing  earnest  voices, 
I  made  that  way,  through  a  close  brake,  to  spy 
The  danger.     Near  the  thicket's  verge,  I  saw 
A  concourse  round  an  oak.     Intent  they  seemed 
On  some  great  spectacle.     Opening  anon, 
I  saw  him,  bleeding,  and  transpierced  with  darts. 
Borne  past  me  on  their  shields. 

Had.    What  was  his  vesture  ? 

Abim.    Fragments  of  purple  hung  about  his  shoulders. 

Had.    His  arms  ?  his  helm  ? 

Abim.    Unhelm'd  his  head,  and  bare ; 
His  breastplate  sparkled,  studded,  and  engrailed 
With  flowers  of  gold,  pure  burnish  of  Damascus. 

Had.    His  stature — 

Abim.    Palm-like  tall,  of  noblest  aspect ; 
With  ample  locks  that  trailed  upon  the  ground. 

Had.    Let  Hades  rise  to  meet  him  reverently, 


Scene  III.  HAD  AD.  185 

For  not  a  Kingly  Shadow  there  sustained 
A  prouder  spirit ! 

Abim.    I  have  watched 

His  dauntless  bearing  through  this  desperate  day 
Too  keenly  to  mistake.     Though  he  miscarried, 
He  well  deserves  a  valiant  memory, 
And  fought  it  like  a  son  of  David. 

Had.    Dead! 

We  must  begone.     Prithee,  speak  not  of  this 

Till  we're  away. — First  I'll  despatch  yon  Horsemen. 

[Aside.-] 

Abim.    (approaching  the  Ishmaelites.) 
Come,  bustle  bustle,  mates  : — day  wastes — and  with 
The  moon,  we  must  be  making  for  the  Desert. 

Had.    (behind  the  tents.) 

Mount,  sirs, — your  master  needs  ye — push  amain — 
Spur — strike  into  the  field  the  shortest  way — 
Where'er  ye  see  him  grapple  to  his  side — 
I'll  guard  the  Princess. — (Returning.)     So  ;  we'll  farther 

pierce 
The  forest,  that  they  trace  us  not.     At  worst, 


186  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Our  dromedaries  can,  with  ease,  outstrip  them. 

[Approaching  SARAH'S  tent.] 
Princess,  we  must  hegone. 

Tarn,    (appearing.)    Ha  I—What  ? 

Had.    But  this;— 
Your  father  has  retreated. 

Tarn.    Is  he  safe? 
Alive?  uninjured? 

Had.    They  who  saw,  report 
He  so  escaped. 

Tarn.    Thanks,  gracious  Heaven  ! 

Had.    Come,  sweet, 

We  must  obey  him,  now  :  The  conflict's  o'er ; 
Take  comfort.     Bid  we  these  good  friends  farewell. 

Tarn.    Adieu,  kind-hearted  Adah  !  Were  my  fate 
Less  cruel,  we  would  not  part  so.     Keep  this 
For  Tamar's  sake.    (Gives  her  a  ring.) 

Adah,    (weeping.)    Farewell !  farewell ! — The  stars 
Prove  kinder  to  you. 

Sar.    Go  in  peace. 

Tarn.    Farewell  to  all ! 

[The  Ishmaelites  follow  TAM.  and  HAD.  to  the 
rear  of  the  encampment."] 


SCENE  IV. 

A  sequestered  place  in  the  wood,  surrounded  with  thick  dark 
trees  :  a  fountain,  near  a  cave  :  Enter  HADAD  and  TAMAR. 

*• 

Tarn.     But   why  dismount    here  ? — night    approaches, 

Hadad:— 

See,  the  slant  sunbeams  gild  but  the  tall  tree-tops, 
And  evening  sables  all  below.     The  wood 
Grows  drear  and  dismal :  let's  escape  from  it. 

Had.    But  we  must  wait  the  Guard. — Come,  sit  with  me 
Beside  this  mossy  fountain  :  All  is  still  here  : — 
List  the  sweet  birds  nestling  among  the  boughs ; 
All  else  soft  silence  :  tumult  comes  not  here. 
Sit  by  this  crystal  spring  awhile. 

Tarn.    No,  no, 
I  will  not  sit ;  we  must  not  linger  here. 


188  HAD  AD.  Art  V. 

My  father  bade  us  haste  :  we  disobey, 

And  risk  his  anger. — Keep  your  hands  from  me. 

Had.    But  whither  shall  we  fly  ? 

Tarn.    Where  he  commanded. 

Had.    To  vassal  Geshui ! — Who  can  there  protect  us  ? 

Or  in  Damascus'  tributary  walls  ? 

Hear  me,  sweet  Princess,  bright  star  of  my  being, 
Fly,  fly  with  me  beyond  this  wretched  scene 
Of  civil  strife,  and  never-ending  discord, 
To  realms  of  quietness,  where  we  may  dwell 
In  lasting  peace. 

Tarn.    What  mean'st  thou  ? 

Had.    Look  on  Israel 

Deluged  in  blood — the  Royal  House  divided — 
The  Tribes  in  faction — peace  for  ever  fled  ! 
What  harbour  here  for  love  ?  O,  fly  with  me : 
I  will  conduct  you  to  a  brighter  sphere. 

Tarn.    Forsake  my  country? — father? — Never,  never. 

Had.    Then  Hadad's  lost,  and  all  our  cherished  hopes 
A  faithless  dream. 

Tarn.    These  sad  clouds  may  disperse. 


SetmlV.  HAD  AD.  189 

Had.    Thou  know'st  not — Ah ! 1  would  have  spared 

that  pang — 

Tarn.    Ha! 

Had.    Hadad  can  never  tread  these  bounds  again. 
Deemed  (O,  how  falsely !)  treason's  foul  abettor, 
Since  he  is  gone  who  only  could  attest 
His  spotless  innocence. 

Tarn.    Since  who  is  gone  ? 

Had,    (seeming  to  weep.) 
Alas !  alas  ! — your  father 
Sleeps  with  the  valiant  of  the  years  of  old. 

Tarn.    O,  grief ! — my  father ! — Couldst  thou  so  deceive 
me! 

Had.    I  had  not  fortitude — 

Tarn.    Alas  !  my  father  !    (Lost  in  tears.) 

Had.    The  bond  is  burst  that  knit  thee  to  thy  country : — 
Thy  father's  murderers  triumph: — Go  not  there 
To  see  their  mock'ry,  hear  his  mighty  name 
Dishonoured  by  their  lips.     Let  us  retire, 
And,  piously,  on  some  far  peaceful  shore, 

With  mingled  tears  embalm  his  memory. 

25 


.190  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Tarn.    Am  I  an  orphan ! 

Had.    Much  loved  Princess,  no, 
Not  while  this  faithful  heart  so  fondly — 

Tarn.    All, 

All  gone  ! — all  but  one  hoar  and  stricken  head  ! — 
My  father  David !— I'll  to  thee. 

Had.    (aside.)    Curs'd  thought ! 

What !  to  the  slayer  of  thy  parent !  Go 

Where  obloquy,  and  shame,  and  curses  load  him  ! 

Hear  him  called,  Rebel !  Canst  thou  bear  that,  lady  ? 

Tarn.    Nor  shall  I — David  too  will  mourn,  and  shield 
His  memory  with  a  father's  love. 

Had.    Tamar — 
Wilt  thou  forsake  me  ? 

Tarn.    I  must  go  to  David. 

Had.    Think,  think  of  your  inevitable  lot ! 
Withering  neglect  and  scorn  !  for  who  will  wed 
A  traitor's  offspring  ?  Men  will  call  thee  so, 
And  Princes  slight  thee  as  a  blasted  thing. 

Tarn.  Prince,  wherefore  this  to  me  ?  Conduct  me  hence. 


Scene  IV.  HADAD.  191 

Had.    (abruptly,  in  an  altered  tone.) 
Nay,  hold  !  for  you  must  listen.     And,  if  deaf 
To  love,  I  can  speak  that  will  touch  your  ear 
To  fearful  ecstasy. 

[TAMAR  startled:  he  proceeds  in  an  agitated  manner.] 

— Confide  in  me, 

And  turn  thy  back  on  this  curs'd  land  for  ever, 
And  I'll  convey  thee  to  a  Paradise 

Where  thou  shalt  reign  the  worshipped  Queen  of  realms, 
To  which  this  Canaan  is  a  darksome  span. 
Beings. shall  serve  thee  brighter  than  thy  dreams : 
The  Elements  shall  stoop  to  thee  ;  the  Sea 
Disclose  her  wonders,  and  receive  thy  feet 
Into  her  pearly  chambers  ;  radiant  clouds 
Shall  be  thy  chariot,  thou  shalt  roam  the  skies  : — 
To  satisfy  thy  noble  thirst  of  knowledge, 
Ages,  forgotten  ages  shall  cast  up 
Their  hoarded  treasures,  ere  the  mighty  flood 
Covered  the  mountains,  ere  this  rolling  Earth 
Stood  in  her  station  : — Thou  shalt  know  the  Stars, 
The  Houses  of  Eternity,  their  names, 
Their  courses,  destiny ; — all  secrets  high. 


192  HADAD.  Aci  V- 

Tarn.    Talk  not  so  madly,  Hadad. 

Had.    (vehemently.)    Speak answer 

Wilt  thou  be  mine  if  mistress  of  them  all  ? 

Tarn.    I  know  not  what  I  fear  when  I  say,  No. 
Thou  wouldst  not  wrong  me  in  this  lonely  wood. 
Confided  to  thee  as  a  sacred  trust — 
Alas  !  and  yet  thy  passion-troubled  mien 
Appals  me. 

Had.    (haughtily.)   Ha?  perhaps  you  doubt  my  power? 
Whom  dost  thou  think  me  ? 

Tarn.    Able  to  achieve 

What  human  strength  and  genius — 

• 

Had.    (with  scorn.)    Human  strength ! 

Tarn.    What  horrid  thought  of  pride  curls  thy  pale  lip. 

And  ruffles  all  thy  form  ? O,  look  not  thus— 

Your  eyes  are  terrible — Protect  me,  Heaven ! — 
How,  how  have  I  offended  ? 

Had.    Still,  thou  deem'st  me 
Hadad — the  man — the  worm — the  'heritor 
Of  a  poor  vanquished  tributary  King ! — 
Then  know  me — 


Scene  IV.  HAD  AD.  193 

Tarn,    (terrified.)    Heavens!  O,  heavens! 

Had.    This  form  was  Hadad's — 
But  I — the  Spirit — I — the  Power  who  speak 
Through  these  clay  lips — am  from  the  Heaven  of  Heavens. 
The  peer  of  Angels. 

Tarn.    Horror ! 

f 

Had.    Canst  thou  conceive 

The  love  that  could  persuade  me  to  these  fetters  ? — 
Quenching  immortal  and  angelic  lustre — 
Abandoning  my  power — I  who  could  touch 
The  firmament,  and  plunge  to  darkest  Sheol, 
Bask  in  the  sun's  orb,  fathom  the  green  sea, 
Even  while  I  speak  it, — here  to  root  and  grow 
In  Jewish  earth, — a  mortal  abject  thing. 
To  win  and  to  enjoy  thy  love  ! 

Tarn,    (in  a  low  voice  of  supplication.)    Heaven,  Heaven, 
Forsake  me  not ! 

Had.    First,  in  the  city's  crowded  gate  1  saw  thee, 
The  memorable  day  thou  cam'st  from  Geshur, 
A  vermil  blossom  by  thy  father's  side, 
Hailing  Jerusalem  with  smiles  and  tears. 


194  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Then,  then  I  loved  thee — tender  as  thou  wert— 

I  hung  invisibly  about  thy  steps — 

About  thy  bed — I  glided  in  thy  dreams  ; 

Filled  them  with  sweet  voluptuous  forms  and  phantoms, 

And  watched  thy  glowing  cheek,  and  heaving  bosom, 

While  my  bright  visions  stirred  thy  fancy.     Happy, 

Till  that  curst  Syrian,  fresher  than  Adonis, 

Became  thy  inmate.     Oh  !  what  horrid  pangs 

Rent  me  when  I  perceived  thy  conscious  cheek, 

Thy  soul-fraught  glances  !  No  seducing  dream, 

Illusion,  art  of  mine,  could  reach  thee  more. — 

Then  first  I  knew  Hell's  agonies,  and  writhed 

In  fire,  and  felt  the  scorpion's  sting. 

Tarn,    (aside.)    What  thoughts !— 
Am  I  awake  ? — What  horrid  recollections ! — 

Had.    And  yet  I  harmed  him  not — I  harmed  him  not — 
But  mourning  in  a  mountain  solitude 
Neighb'ring  Jerusalem,  my  luckless  love 
And  blasted  destiny,  your  father's  train 
Came  forth  to  hunt.     The  Syrian,  from  the  rest 
Severing  in  hot  pursuit,  fell  in  with  Outlaws, 


Scene  IF.  HAD  AD.  195 

Who  followed,  and  with  bloody  daggers  slew  him, 
Even  by  the  fountain  where  I  mused  unseen. 

Tarn,    (clasping  her  forehead.) 
O,  grace !  O,  pity ! — Sure  my  senses  reel ! 

Had.    Thou  know'st  the  time — remember'st  well.    'Twas 

night 

Ere  he  returned — ere  I  returned — for  I, 
From  that  day  forth,  have  worn  these  lineaments. 

Tarn.    Confusion  ! — horror ! 

Had.    While  his  lifeless  limbs 
Pressed  the  green  sod,  while,  pitying,  T  surveyed 
His  matchless  beauty,  nobly  stern  in  death, 
And  thought  how  dear  those  features  were  to  thee, 
I  dared  the  penalty, — for  thy  sake,  dared 
Death,  prison-house,  and  penal  consequence, 
Denounced  on  the  offence — I  linked  myself 
To  Hadad's  form,  and  man's  infirmities — 
My  recompense,  my  only  recompense. 
Thy  love. 

Tarn.    Insidious  Fiend ! — 'tis  falsehood  all ! — 
Thou  slew'st  him ! 


196  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Had.    Ha ! — are  there  not  other  means 
To  free  the  spirit  ? — Had  I  marred  him  thus  ? 

[Draws  aside  his  vesture,  and  displays  two  bleeding 
stabs  upon  his  breast.] 

Tarn.    O,  Powers  of  Heaven ! 

Had.    Immedicable  wounds  that  thrill  and  throb       * 
Hourly,  as  with  the  mortal  steel,  and  gush 
Fresh  blood,  when  stronger  passions  shake  my  frame  ; 

No  art  can  heal  them  and  no  balm  assuage. 

O,  if  this  sight  constrain  the  tear  of  pity, 
How  wouldst  thou  live  to  listen  the  dire  torments 
Must  loose  me  from  this  flesh — too  deep  to  tell — 
To  which  your  death,  by  poison,  steel,  or  rack, 
Is  a  sweet  noontide  slumber. 

Tarn.    Wretched  Being! 

Had.    Dost  thou  not  pity  me  ? 

Tarn.    If 't  be  not  guilt ; 
For  thou  art  ruined,  and  I  know  thy  mind 
Vast,  various,  capable  of  misery 
Past  thought. 

Had.    I  love  thee : — 'tis  my  only  joy  ; — 


Scene  IV.  HADAD.  197 

I've  paid  to  win  thy  love  a  sumless  price : — 
Canst  thou  deny  it  me  ?    (Approaching  her.) 

Tarn.    Avoid  me — leave  me — 
I  sin  in  talking  withthee — Pardon,  Heaven! 
I  know  not  what  I  do. 

Had.    Weep  not, 

Nor  fear,  sweet  Princess  :  I  would  make  thee  happy, 
Happier  than  mortal.     Bid  me  sprinkle,  now, 
Three  crystal  drops  of  this  pure  spring  upon  thee, 
And  thou  shalt  live,  unfading,  tracts  of  years, 
And  bloom,  when  all  who  stand  to-day  on  eai  th 
Are  shapeless  dust.    (Scoops  water  from  the  fountain.) 

Tarn,    (recoiling  with  horror.) 
Avaunt ! — approach  me  not ! — 
Jehovah  shelter  me ! — O,  righteous  Prophet. 
Had  I  obeyed  thee  ! — Guilty,  and  undone ! 

Had.    Why  call'st  thou  on  that  name  so  oft,  nor  know'st 
Thyself  abandoned  ?  Hop'st  thou  to  escape 
His  wrath  who  visits  on  the  children's  head 
The  father's  guilt?  Thy  sire  has  angered  him, 
And  thou  must  suffer. — Take  the  good  I  offer : 

26 


198  HADAD.  Act  V. 

Thou  hazardest  no  evil,  and  securest 
Almost  immortal  bliss. — Wilt  thou  ? 

Tarn.    No — no — no. 

Had.    Strange  obduracy !  Thou  art  mine,  thou  seest : 
Resigned  to  me  in  this  vast  wilderness, 
Night,  solitude,  and  silence  all  around, 
With  none  to  friend  or  help  thee  ;  yet  thou  turnest 
From  happiness  beyond  the  lot  of  mortal, 
Beauty  unfading,  knowledge  like  the  Angels'. 
Glory,  and  sovereignty,  and  length  of  days, 
And  raptures  needing  more  expressive  lips — 
Ah !  thou  relent'st — Thus,  let  me  clasp  my  treasure  ! 

Tarn,    (springing  backward.) 
Heart,  hold  thou  firm  !  God,  look  on  me, 
For  1  am  sore  beset ! — If  'tis  my  crime 
Not  to  have  abhorred  thee  utterly,  and  sealed 
My  ears  like  adamant,  nor  ventured,  once, 
Exchange  a  thought, — 'twas  difficult,  alas  ! 
Seeing  that  form,  and  listening  to  a  tongue 
Employed  so  oft  in  noblest  eloquence, 
To  realize  thee,  foul,  and  reprobate. 


Scene  IV.  HADAD.  199 

Abandoned  quite,  hating  thy  God,  and  bent 
To  drag  a  frail,  bereaved,  unhappy  creature 
Down  to  thy  own  dark  mansion-house  of  pain. 
But  now,  I  know  thee — I  abjure  thee — hate  thee 
More  than  unwittingly  I  loved.     To  God 

I  cleave — on  God  I  call 

Had.  (with  demoniac  violence.) 
No  more — we'll  argue  after — Thou,  at  least, 
Shalt  never  bear  the  Incarnate  Foe  we  fear ! 

Tarn.    Save  me !— Oh !  Oh!— For  Jacob's,  David's  sake! 
[He  drags  her,  shrieking,  into  the  cavern.     A  trumpet 
and  voices  heard  in  the  wood.     Enter  BENAIAH,  with 
a  party  of  Cherethites,  from  the  pursuit.] 
Ben.    This  way,  this  way — It  issues  from  yon  cave. 
Cherethites.    Stand    from    the  gorge — Give    light,    and 
weapon-room. 

[Several  Cherethites  enter  the  cavern.] 
Ben.   It  thrilled  me  like  a  woman's  desperate  cry — 
Ha !  hark ! — what  dire  unnatural  yell  was  that  ? 

[They  listen.] 

Some  mortal  conflict  rages — Heavenly  Powers  ! 
What  curses  !  howling !  horrid  blasphemy ! 


200  HADAD.  Act  V. 

First  Cher.    'Tis  like  Gehenna ! 
Ben.    Guard  the  entrance : — 
Some  stout  hearts  follow  me. 

[BENAIAH  enters,  attended  by  three  of  the  band.'] 
Second  Cher.    Follow,  who  list : 
I  like  not  these  dark  caves  that  yawn  like  Hades  ; 
They're  haunted  by  accursed  Spirits  oft, 
Who  craftily  entice  men  in,  and  there, 
Force  them  to  kneel  at  their  ensnaring  altars. 
First  Cher.    But  should  we  leave  our  lord  in  peril  ? 
Third  Cher.    No, 
By  heaven  !  Let's  in,  and  stand  hy  him. 

[As  others  are  entering,  a  Cherethite  rushes  out,  pale 

and  trembling."] 
Cherethites.    What  now  ?— • 
What  violence  is  doing  ? — Speak. — Why  stares 
Your  hair? 

Cherethite.    O,  go  not — 'tis  too  terrible. 
Other  Cherethites.    What  saw  ye  ?— Speak ! 
Cherethite.    One  like  the  Cherubim, 
Dreadfully  glistering,  wing'd,  and  dazzling  bright 


Scene' IV.  HADAD.  201 

As  lightning,  whose  fierce-bickering  eyeballs  shot 
Sparkles  like  arrows,  filling  all  the  cave 
With  red  effulgence, — smiting  with  grasp'd  beams 
A  howling,  withering,  ghast,  demoniac  shape, 
Crouched  like  a  venomous  reptile, — rage  and  fear 
Gleaming  in  his  fell  eyes, — who  cursed,  and  gnash'd, 
And  yelled,  till  death's  last  livid  agony. 

Second  Cher.    The  Prophets  keep  us  ! 

Cherethite.    Nothing  kin  to  earth 
E'er  looked  such  serpent  rage,  or  battled  so 
With  death's  strong  pangs. 

Third  Cher.    Heaven  guard  us  from  the  Fiend ! 

[They  all  start.] 

Fourth  Cher.    What  sound  was  that  ? 

Second  Cher.    It  seemed  a  rush  of  wind  from  out  the  cave. 

First  Cher.    'Twas  passing  wings. 

Third  Cher.    I  felt  it ;  and  methinks, 
A  sudden  sweetness  fills  the  air  around  us. 

First  Cher.  Ambrosial.     It  betokens  some  blest  Presence. 

Second  Cher.    They  come,  they  come. 

[Enter  two  Cherethites,  dragging  the  body  of  HADAD 
from  the  cavern.     All  gather  round  it."] 


202  HADAD.  Act  V. 

First  Cher.    What  hideous  monster  is't  ? 

Second  Cher.    'Tis  nothing  human  : 
Look  how  'tis  blasted. 

Third  Cher.    What  a  hellish  glare 
Is  glazed  upon  those  starting  eyeballs ! 

Second  Cher.    Damned. 

[Enter  BENAIAH,  and  others,  from  the  cavern,  bearing 

v 

TAMAR,  whom  they  place  upon  the  turf  by  the  spring.] 

Ben.    'Tis  she  indeed,  the  Princess,  but  not  dead  ; 
The  colour's  in  her  cheek,  and  see,  she  breathes. 

[Sprinkles  water  in  her  face.] 

Tarn,    (opening  her  eyes,  terrified.) 
Where  am  I  ?— ha  !— 

Ben.    Look  up,  sweet  lady  :  Be  not  so  affrighted  : — 
We  are  thy  friends,  the  servants  of  the  King 
Thy  Grandsire. 

Tarn.    Who? 

Ben.    I  am  Benaiah  ;  these 
Are  David's  servants. 

Tarn.    Take  me  to  him — Save  me — Oh  ! — (sinks  back.) 

Ben.    Take  courage,  Princess : — all  is  well : — Behold ! 


SceneiV.  HAD  AD.  203 

Arm'd  friends  are  round  thee.     Heaven  hath  shown  us,  too, 

Who  guards  the  innocent. Sound  the  recall : 

Collect  more  strength  about  us  :  Seize  a  mule, 
If  any  brouse  the  glade  without  a  rider. 

[Trumpet  sounds.] 

Hell  has  been  busy.     Yonder  withered  thing 
Is  Hadad.     Though  close  shrouded  from  men's  eyes, 
He  could  not  'scape  the  All-seeing,  who  hath  hurled 
Ripe  vengeance  on  the  foul  deceiver's  head. 
I  well  remember,  now,  a  dark  surmise 
Imparted  by  the  Prophet  to  the  King, 
The  day  we  left  Jerusalem. — But,  sirs, 
The  night  grows  chill.     We  must  remove  her : — Come. — 
My  lord  will  prize  her  safety  as  the  kingdom. 

[Exeunt,  bearing  TAMAR.] 


THE    END. 


NOTES. 


NOTE  I. 

— or  forged 

(More  like)  by  dark  Jlhithophel,  to  rouse 
The  Prince.— p.  53. 

Ahithophel  appears  to  have  been  the  grandfather  of  Bathsheba. 
His  enmity  to  David  is  imputed  by  the  Jews  to  resentment  on  her 
account. 

NOTE  II. 

Above,  about,  beneath ;  earth,  sea,  and  air  ; 
Their  habitations  various  as  their  minds, 
Employments,  and  desires. — p.  74. 

"  The  fall  of  Angels,  therefore,  was  pride.     Since  their  fall,  their 
practices  have  been  the  clean  contrary  unto  those  before  mentioned  ; 
for  being  dispersed,  some  in  the  air,  some  in  the  earth,  some  amongst 
the  minerals,  dens,  and  caves  that  are  under  the  earth,  they  have  by 
all  means  laboured  to  effect  an  universal  rebellion  against  the  laws, 
and  as  far  as  in  them  lieth,  utter  destruction  of  the  works  of  God." 
HOOKER, Eccles.  Polity,  b.  l.sec.  4. 
27 


206  NOTES. 

NOTE  III. 

— but  in  the  chambers  of  this  rock 
Are  treasures  ivhich  the  empires  of  the  earth, 
United,  cannot  equal. — p.  82. 

Josephus,  speaking  of  the  burial  of  David,  observes :  "  He  had 
great  and  immense  wealth  buried  with  him,  the  vastness  of  which 
may  be  easily  conjectured  at  by  what  I  shall  now  say  ;  for  a  thousand 
and  three  hundred  years  afterwards,  Hyrcanus  the  High  Priest,  when 
he  was  besieged  by  Antiochus  that  was  called  the  Pious,  the  son  of 
Demetrius,  and  was  desirous  of  giving  him  money  to  get  him  to  raise 
the  siege,  and  draw  off  his  army ;  and  having  no  other  method  of 
compassing  the  money,  opened  one  room  of  David's  sepulchre,  and 
took  out  three  thousand  talents,  and  gave  part  of  that  sum  to  Antio 
chus,  and  by  this  means  caused  the  siege  to  be  raised,  as  we  have  in 
formed  the  reader  elsewhere.  Nay,  after  him,  and  that  many  years, 
Herod  the  King  opened  another  room,  and  took  away  a  great  deal  of 
money  ;  and  yet  neither  of  them  came  at  the  coffins  of  the  Kings 
themselves." — Antiq.  of  the  Jews,  b.  7.  ch.  15. 

The  riches  left  by  David,  according  to  the  common  computation, 
exceeded  eight  hundred  millions  sterling. 

NOTE  IV. 

Where  goes  Mephibosheth  at  this  dusk  hour  ? — p.  94. 

That  David  strongly  suspected  Mephibosheth  of  some  participation 
in  the  rebellion,  is  apparent  from  his  behaviour  to  Ziba.  When  Me 
phibosheth  meets  the  King,  on  his  return  to  Jerusalem,  with  externa 


NOTES.  207 

signs  of  the  deepest  sorrow  for  his  misfortunes,  and  protests  that  the 
accusations  of  his  servant  are  false  and  slanderous  ;  David,  instead  of 
indignantly  annulling  his  gift  to  Ziba  of  Mephibosheth's  possessions, 
and  inflicting  the  punishment  he  would  have  merited,  had  his  master's 
story  been  believed,  answers  :  "  Why  speakest  thou  any  more  of  thy 
matters  ?  I  have  said,  Thou  and  Ziba  divide  the  land." — See  also 
JOSEPHUS  :  Translator's  note.  b.  8.  ch.  11. 

NOTE  V. 

— Thou  knoiifst  His  held  by  righteous  men 
That  Heaven  intrusts  us  all  to  Watching  Spirits. — p.  118. 

Take  heed  that  ye  despise  not  one  of  these  little  ones  ;  for  I  say 
unto  you  that  in  Heaven  their  Angels  do  always  behold  the  face  of 
my  Father,  which  is  in  Heaven. — MATT.xviii.  10.  Are  they  not  all 
ministering  Spirits  sent  forth  to  minister  for  them  who  should  be  heirs 
of  salvation. — HEBREWS,  i.  14.  The  Angel  of  the  Lord  encampeth 
round  about  them  that  fear  him,  and  delivereth  them. — PSALM 
xxxiv.  7. 

The  Jews  universally  believed  in  Guardian  Angels. 

NOTE  VI. 

— Fiends  walk  the  earth. — p.  119. 

And  the  Lord  said  unto  Satan,  Whence  comest  thou  ?  Then  Satan 
answered  the  Lord  and  said,  From  going  to  and  fro  in  the  earth,  and 
from  walking  up  and  down  in  it. — JOB,  i.  7. 


208  NOTES. 

NOTE  VII. 

And  left  that  Son  of  Wickedness  to  triumph. — p.  155. 

The  89th  Psalm,  alluded  to  by  Nathan,  is  ascribed  by  the  Jews  to 
Abraham. 

NOTE  VIII. 

Hard  by  the  Wood  of  Ephraim. — p.  159. 

The  Wood  of  Ephraim  was  near  the  city  T)f  Mahanaim  in  the 
country  of  Gilead,  in  the  tribe  of  Gad.  It  received  this  appellation 
from  a  slaughter  of  the  Ephraimites  by  Jephtha,  which  happened 
there. 


•* 


VERJTAS-PER-NA 
TURAM-LIBR05-AT 
QUE-RES-HOMINUM 


MELLINCER-EDWARD-HENRY 
FLORENCE-5TOKES-HENRY 


